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One Bower. 




Price, 50Centj. 






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Dixie Poetic 



BY 



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NOV ^18^3 J 



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ORIE BOWER. 



DENVER, COLO.: 

THE BOWER BOOK CO., 

PUBLISHERS. 

1893. 



few 



Bntered according to Act of Congress in the year 1890, 

by Oris Bower, 
In the office of the librarian of Congress at Washington, 

All rights reserved. 

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— j 0RIE BOWER, 

Fl "'"' iff ' j ATTORNEY AT LAW. 

vs. \ 

/ Offices: 

i 508 iSOS'/z CHARLES BLOCK, 

Defendant. \ Con. 15th & Curtis Sts. 

I Take Elevator. 

In C ° Hrt - I DENVER, COLO . , ' P &Q.t.h., L.8.9.3.. ... .189 

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[III.] 

INDEX. 



PAGE. 

Sketch of the Author 9 

Introductory (to 'Twas 64 in Dixie) 14 

Dedication (of 'Twas '64 in Dixie) 15 

Sub-Titles of, 'TWAS '64 IN DIXIE. 

Attempted Suicide of the Union 17 

Dixie Down, But Still Defiant 18 

Stabbed in the Back 19 

Sherman's Flight Through Georgia 20 

The Charge and Capture 21 

A Menace to the South 23 

Bury the Dead 23 

E'en Rebs Did Wrong 24 

Our Call 25 

Sherman's Call 28 

Emancipation Pretext 29 

R.E.Lee : 31 

Lion Tamers 33 

McClellan 33 

The Devil 34 

U. S. Grant 34 

Our Stonewall Jackson 35 

If— Oh, If! 36 

Our President Davit 37 



[IV.] 

INDEX. 

Sub-Titles of 'TWAS '64 IN DIXIE.— {Con.) 

PAGE 

Other Heroes 39 

Hell-Rejected Browns 40 

Noble Yankee Dead 41 

The Merrimac and Monitor 42 

The Georgia Rattlers 44 

Who saved the Union? 47 

Privates, Blue and Grey 48 

Resurrected Brigadiers 49 

Rebel Heels and Western Yanks 49 

France and Her Game 50 

Southern Girls 5 1 

Wrong's Recoil 55 

Faded Flowers 56 

Re-erect the Ruins of War 57 

Fate's Decree 5& 

The Yankee Cat 61 

The Old and the New 62 

The Social Pot 62 

Freedmen and Carpet-Baggers 63 

Who Waves the Bloody Shirt ? 66 

Slaves 67 

Carpet-Baggers 68 

From Ashes Risen 69 

Gen. Sherman 70 

We Yield But Not As Traitors 71 

Our Queen the South 72 

Moving Southward 73 



[v.] 
INDEX. 

Sub-Titles of 'TWAS '64 IN DIXIE.— (Con.) 

PAGE. 

The Grey a Day, Then Always Blue 73 

Have We No Feeling? 74 

Bloated Tramps 75 

Peace! Be Still ! 75 

We AllAre Yanks 76 

As Loyal Yanks Let's Fix 77 

New England's Care 77 

Social Rights 78 

Onward 78 

A Bloody Dream 79 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Introductory to Miscellaneous Poems 82 

^The "Gray" to the "Blue" 83 

From War to Wooing, or We'll All Be Yanks 86 

Love's Paradise — Matrimony 88 

YumI Yum!! Yum!!! oo 

Celebrate the "Fourth" 93 

The Glorious Fourth, or Young Again To-Day 94 

Slavery 97 

All Freed— 'Tis Well 98 

Lost-in-the-Desert Dreams 100 

The Rockies 103 

Qut West Adrift 104 



[VI.] 

INDEX. 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.— Continued. 

PAGE. 

A Miner's Luck ■ iob 

The Red Devils 109 

Some Pumpkins in 

A Mountain Hermit, or As Many Do 114 

A Texas Mayor 116 

Kansas' Fairest Flower 118 

Cupid in an Orange Grove 120 

The Poem Vanished 123 

Crazed by Good Luck 124 

Love's Appeal to Fate 125 

Witching Eyes '. 127 

One Sweet Kiss Love 129 

I'll Wander Back to Dixie 130 

A Tale of the Comet 132 

Call Again i33 

Flowers 134 

Darling 135 

An Offering ,. 136 

Lady Friends and Flowers 137 

Nina 138 

Ring Farewell 139 

Take This Heart and Keep It 141 

Mary Single 142 

The Engagement Ring 143 

A Wish 145 

To Flo 146 



[VII.] 

INDEX. 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.— {Continued^ 

PAGE. 

In Mary's Album 147 

A Birthday Wish 148 

She Is Good H9 

Our Social Club 150 

The Old Horse Shied 151 

Wife 153 

Home-Wrecks 1 54 

Go! Sin No More i55 

How to Rule 156 

A Tale of Two Dudes i57 

Jealousy 160 

Ice-Constancy 161 

Love That's Weighed and Measured 163 

Fate 164 

Wry Police and Law's Delays 168 

Such Is Life 171 

'Tis Indiscretion 175 

Despair to Death 176 

An Ideal Death 178 

Sign the Door 179 

Out 179 

A Mother's Wail 180 

Napoleon to His Soul at Death 182 

Life 183 

The Telescope 183 

Stolen Pleasures 184 

Memory's Invasion 186 



[9] 
SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR. 



The following sketch is quoted, by permission, 
from the Rocky Mountain Sentinel, of Jul}' 29th, 1893. 

"Of 'Blowse and Wife,' the illustrated story com- 
mencing on the first page of this issue of the Sentinel, 
Orie Bower of this city, (Denver,) is the author. By 
prominent journals Mr. Bower has been styled 'The 
Lawyer Poet of the Rockies, ' and 'The Dixie Poet. ' 

"Mr. Bower's ancestors were Holland Dutch of 
considerable prominence. His great grand- father 
was a New England Yankee — a sculptor of Providence, 
Rhode Island. He himself is, by birth, education and 
sentiment a Southerner — a Georgian. By the ravages 
of war he was stripped of a good patrimony, which 
otherwise he would have inherited; and yet, among 
the 'Yanks' he numbers some of his dearest friends. 

"The collegiate education of Mr. Bower was had at 
Washingten college, Virginia, (Now Washington and 
Lee University,) under the Presidency of Gen. Robert 
E. Lee. Among his college mates were Clifton 
Breckenridge of Arkansas, now member of Congress, 
Thomas Nelson Page, poet and author, and other 
young men now distinguished who were attracted 
thither partly by the fame of Gen. Lee. Previously 
Mr. Bower spent about ten years as a student of Tal- 
mage Institute in Irwin ton, Georgia. Shortly after 
his majority he served the same town as its mayor, 
and at other times held several offices of local impor- 
tance. 



[IO] 

"At the age of nineteen he was admitted to the 
bar at Milledgeville, Georgia— the scene of the ripest 
forensic efforts of such geniuses as Bob Toombs, Alex. 
Stephens, Howell Cobb, Joe Brown and other national 
celebrities — and e*er since, excepting a few years, has 
successfully practiced his profession. When not prac- 
ticing law, he has engaged with flattering success in 
the newspaper business, as traveling correspondent or 
managing editor of Western dailies. 

"When a boy he was not studious, but lingered 
about the haunts of nature, when not necessarily at 
school With Wash, his mulatto slave attendant, he 
hunted and fished the time away. No doubt the hap- 
piest hours of his boyhood were spent on long, warm 
winter evenings with a number of eager boys gathered 
around a huge light -wood knot fire, as it blazed and 
roared in the broad stick-and-dirt chimney of some ne- 
gro cabin; or around such a fire in the woods while 
ostensibly out o' possum hunting, listening to the 
'Bre'r Rabbit,' 'Bre'r Fox,' and ghost, and other folk- 
lore stories, which were told by Wash as it seemed no 
one else could tell them. On summer nights fishing 
was resorted to on Southern streams beautifully bor- 
dered by trees, vines and flowers, such as are known 
only in tropic, or semi-tropic countries. At such times 
the scene was everywhere ablaze with myriads of fire- 
flies, fragrance filled the air, and the woods resounded 
with blending songs of mocking-birds, whip-poor-wills 
and katy-dids, which naturally awakened the soul of 
the poet. 



"In the course of Mr. Bower's travels he has 
spent not less than a year each in Florida, Virginia, 
Texas, Old Mexico and California, and has farmiliar- 
ized himself with all phases of life — from the most re- 
fined society in mansions of 'blue blood' and luxury, 
to the roughest and toughest elements of the plains 
and the Mexican border. 

' 'Mr. Bower is of a family of poets, several of 
whom have achieved some distinction. His first ef- 
forts in this line commenced while he was yet in his 
'teens,' but he considers his effusions prior to 1883 of 
not enough merit for preservation. Since then he has 
published nearly one hundred poems, in various mag- 
azines and papers from San Francisco to New York, 
the largest and most noted of which is "Twas '64 in 
Dixie,' which, with ten illustrations has been pub- 
published in more papers than one. 

"Of Mr. Bower's poems one author and critic has 
written: 'His "Twas '64 in Dixie,' notwithstanding its 
Southern proclivities, at once took hold of the public 
taste, which was still further gratified by the appearance 
of 'The Gray to the Blue. ' A vein of quiet humor 
generally underlies most of his poems, with an occa- 
sional rollicking ebulition, as in 'Some Pumpkins.' 
His 'One Sweet Kiss Love,' his 'From Dixie's 
Bower,' and his 'Lost-in-the-Desert Dreams,' 
have attracted the attention and secured favorable 
criticism of leading'literary critics of the day.' 

"Not naming all, another critic, an author of na- 
tional reputation, has written of them: 'In glancing 
at Mr. Bower's work, what first impresses us is its ver- 



[12] 

satility. * * * * * In 'The Grey TO 
THE Blue,' written on the occasion of the G. A. R. 
re-union in San Francisco, 1886, Mr. Bower proves 
himself a broad man. * * * * * We 
read carefully and feel that we know this poet, and 
knowing like him.' 

"We might run on indefinitely', the critic contin- 
ues, 'and prove that he has touched nearly every 
phase of emotion. If asked to name the distinguish- 
ing characteristic of Mr. Bower's verse, we would say 
— humor. A notable instance of this is, 'Some Pump- 
kins,' the story of a boom in California. Very funny, 
too, is 'The Old Horse Shied.' Of its kind we 
have never seen anything better. But even in his 
humorous verse, Mr. Bower sometimes strikes a deeper 
note. In one of his airiest pieces we find, 

* * * * * * 'no light winds stir 
Can wake the flowers that are dead — 

That grieved to death for loss of her.' 

' 'In Home Wrecks' we find the poet approaching 
a more serious view of life; while in 'Wry Police 
and Laws Delays,' we find him scourging with 
scornful wit, the political abuses of the day. To judge 
from his beautiful poem, 'Go! Sin No More,' he him- 
self realizes the danger in passions unbridled. * * * 
The true humorous poets are a boon to the race; 
they make us 'laugh and forget and be strong.' 

"Mr. Bower is still young (forty-three,) and much 
may be expected from his pen." 

a£^"NoTE— Quite a number of the Miscellaneous Poems ap- 
pearing herein were written subsequent to the publication of the 
article above quoted. 



*Twas '64 it) Dixie* 

With Sub-Titles. 



[14] 

^^'INTRODUCTORY. u«» 

(To 'Twas '64 in Dixie.) 



^T^HB fireside forges character. 

Had I been reared on Ireland's sod 
I'd see through Irish eyes, and wear 
Shamrock in sight of man and God. 

Had I New Englander been reared, 

(As was my great-grand-pa,) my mouth, 

And pen might Yankee faults extol — 
I might be pleased to goad the South. 

A Southron? Yes; by fate of birth, 
And rearing, true, and of it proud; 

Yet Yank enough the "stars and stripes" 
To raise and praise in any crowd. 

Though friendship links to Yanks my heart, 
And for "Old Glory" I'd risk my head, 

I love the South, my mother, home, 

And "Rebel" flag, though furled and dead. 

Why not speak out with candor, friends? 

I'd rather be a louse in Spain, 
Than traitor to my fireside views 

Through cowardice, or hope of gain. 



[IS] 



^bEblCATiON,^ 

■■■■■■■■ 
(OF 'TWAS '64 IN DIXIE.) 



AS flowers set out o'er the grave of the dead, 
' May these verses, though planted by Passion 

misled, 
Be sacred to Mem'ry for the "cause that was 

lost," 
With the briars nipped from them by Charity's 

frost. 
May they blossom with love, shed the war as 

a dream, 
And nourish the Union with public esteem; 
Old scars may they laugh out, old wounds 

may they heal, 
And die with the Union, or thrive with its weal. 




ATTEMPTED SUICIDE OF THE UNION. 

A S beak, and claw.-, and wings gave blows 

To rend herself, whose life blood flows, 
Our union bird of glorious birth, 
Our eagle proud alarmed the earth 
With wild and piercing screams, well known, 
Which startled every wakeful throne; 
Woke nodding crowns and made them quake, 
And screaming kept them wide awake. 



She long had known not 'blue" from "gray; 
Grown stout and tough, not sought for prey, 
'Thout foes in sight, on land or seas, 
Had fretful grown and tired of ease. 



) > 






[i8] 

She had her better self been prodding, 
When not a-banqueting or nodding, 
Until she cross and wicked grew, 
And wrought her gall into a stew, 
Stirred up and stewed by basest crews- 
New England cranks of hell's refuse — 
So nauseous mean, from hades spew'd 
As advocates to stir up feud — 
Which did her reason so misguide 
That she resolved on suicide 
And went to war; 

'Twas '6i 
This suicidal war begun. 
In point of years but few ago, 
And yet an age of social woe. 



DIXIE DOWN, BUT STILL DEFIANT. 

^HE war wore on, 'til '64; 

The streams a crimson flood did pour; 
Peace, by fanatics drugged, still slept; 
The angry nation fought and wept : 
Poor Dixie's cause, footsore and weary, 
With home a graveyard, lonely, dreary, 
In shiv'ring rags, in want of food, 



[19] 

Sad, pale and weak from loss of blood, 
Hard trampled on by foemen's feet, 
While Yankee yells spoke our retreat; 
Sore, bleeding, lame, before the giant 
Still dragged herself and still defiant; 
Retreating, faint and out of breath 
Still whisp'ring, "Liberty or Death !' 



STABBED IN THE BACK. 

'IpHE North replied: "Alas! my brother, 

(Or sis, unsexed) would you destroy 
And pull in twain our common mother, 
Or treat our country as a toy? 
The liberty you boldly claim 
Is treason's sway, whate'er the name. 
Such freedom if you'll have or death, 
You may as well resign your breath;" 
Whereat the North the prostrate South 
Still pounded in the ribs and mouth. 

About the mouth she hit with Grant, 
And in the ribs hard licks did plant 
With Sheridan, who fought our men, 
While Sherman robbed our barn and pen; 
Who, while Dame Dixie prayed and wept 



[26] 

For sons at war in front attack, 
Most sneakingly behind her crept, 

And stabbed a death wound in her back; 
And while she prostrate helpless swoons 
"Old Cockeyed Ben" still pockets spoons. 



SHERMAN'S FLIGHT THROUGH 
GEORGIA. 

'HpHE strife now ev'ry nerve awoke, 

And craped the land with powder smoke, 

Sherman, with men outnumb'ring Hood, 

To taste him well, awhile had stood. 

As Hood, ag^in, he dared not meet, 

He started on his famed retreat, 

With armed hosts (well fed on pillage- 
Some beastly drunk on wine or lust), 

Who burned or plundered town and village, 
And raped and robbed — if Say we must — 

And butchered boys and drooping age; 

But are these stains on hist'ry's page? 

His flight through Georgia — frightened hare — 

Well freed his ranks of "Rebel's" care. 

No soldiers near to start his fears, 

Naught flames to quench but women's tears, 

The torch and beastly crime were plied, 

Of which the books e'er since have lied 



[21] 

THE CHARGE AND CAPTURE. 

XTEAR him command to "Charge! boys, 

charge ! 
While Grant rights rebel armies large, 
We, too, for fame are anxious bidders; 
We'll rout or starve the babes and widows." 



w^ 







IF PIGS RESIST, THEN CHARGE THE PENS. 

"Charge what?" say they; 

"The hens! the hens ! 
If pigs resist, then charge the pens ! 
'Mong women weak, from danger far, 
We'll mock the crimes and noise of war. 






[22] 

So arm the 'nigs,' and trouble sow : 

The wenches pet — your wives won't know — 

Lip nectar sip, from greasy lip — 

Thick luscious lip — but hold your nose, 

And then for hours apply the hose. 

"As if in battle shoot the cows; 

Throw shell among the suckling sows, 

Urge all the people off to bed, 

Then burn their homes down o'er their head. 

If growling dogs to babies creep, 

Then cannonade them off to sleep : 

For sure the Yankee nation shoots 

When 'tis defied by saucy brutes." 

And thus he growls and fumes 'til when, 
From off her roost he pulls a hen. 
Then, though he much deserves abuse,^ 
He meanly shoots a hissing goose. 




[23] 

A MENACE TO THE SOUTH. 

TXTHIIyE at a farmer's place one day 

I heard a Sherman hater say : 
4 'Were Sherman beggared, sick and down, 
And I had dogs — well bred or noun' — 
That dared to lick his sores or hand, 
I'd wipe the skunks from off the land. 

Can peace e'er thrive, 

While he's alive? 
As roughest scold, he keeps his mouth 
A constant menace to the South." 



BURY THE DEAD. 

T^THEN we reflect — but why add wrong ? 

The past is dead. No warring throng 
Of horo ghosts should be paraded, 
For harm disturbed, exposed, degraded; 
But we and Sherman should decide 
To play not ghouls — let rest what died. 
His torch and blade, with shells of gall 
Which he explodes in peace o'er all, 
Our ashes, scars and tears we shed, 
Let's bury with the past, that's dead. 



[2 4 ] 

E'EN REBS DID WRONG. 

'T^HE strife has been kept up too long. 

We all — e'en "Rebs" — have done some 
wrong. 
For we, no doubt, too much have crowed 
O'er vict'ries won. 'Tis true we showed 
Bad temper oft when fighting for 
Our rights. But war, you know, is war. 

And now I see 'twas not in fun, 

But war, that Sherman's wrongs were done. 

You Yanks were not alone the 4 sinners : 
We oft times, too, force-borrowed dinners, 
While horses fat we'd sometimes borrow, 
That we might meet you on the morrow. 
But who's so lost to well bred pride 
To grudge a foot-sore "Reb." a ride? 

It may be, too, that fires got out 
In Yankeedom, with "Rebs" about. 

It may be true that Yanks shot dead 
Were stripped by Rebs — poor, cold, unfed; 
But cared the heaven-sent dead so gory? 
The living lived to fight for glory. 



E»5] 

True, Yankees who from warfare rested 

In prison here were not molested 

With champagne supper-dreams, nightmares, 

And mince pie cramps and love affairs ; 

Indeed the world we now def}' 

To prove we killed our Yanks with pie. 




OUR CALL. 

|"T may have been when night was creeping 

Up into day, and Yanks were sleeping 
NearRebs who starved, thought not of fashions; 
Whose stomachs fitted not their rations, 
Whose clothes, like icicles, hung on, 
Whose shoes, like Yanks, were soulless, gone; 
It may be true pigs died of laughter, 
And ragged Rebs felt better after. 



[26] 




FELT BETTER AFTER. 



TDUT who'd begrudge a pig or two 

To hungry Rebs? Friend Yanks, would you? 



[27] 

To Rebs who called to stay until 

You went, their guests, to And'sonville? 

Just think what pains they took to go ; 

What comforts they did then forego ; 

Left feather beds, where they reposed, 

To rough it, ragged, starved, exposed; 

Fine linen changed for creeping rags — 

Changed streets and roads for woods and crags; 

For ball-room rippling smiles and fun, 

A knapsack thin and bloody gun. 

The kid-gloved hands of Southern misses — 
With now and then sweet stolen kisses — 
They changed for camp-fire songs and pots, 
And dreams of home — not e'en on cots. 
'Twas spiced food then, on silver spoon; 
They finger now 'neath chand'lier moon — 
Old hard-tack soaked, and lucky feel 
When not deprived of this scant meal. 

They changed home-song, and music rich, 
For hiss-ball medley o'er the ditch: 
Left swallow-tails, kid gloves and beavers, 
No more to shine as love-sigh heavers 
Aswim in fashion's dizzy whirls, 
Among sweet, lively Southern girls: 
Left rocking chair and table cloth, 



[28] 

And prancing steeds, all o'er in froth, 
And fox-hounds, slaves and wedding-bells,. 
That thrive not well 'mong war-hurled shells: 

Left home and mother, wealth and ease, 

Mowed ironclads, and men and trees, 

Rode seas, plunged streams of blood on land 

And sought you, till our weary band, 

With carnage hot had melted small — 

Too small and weak to more than crawl. 

All this they did to call on you ; 

And would you grudge the pig or two? 



SHERMAN'S CALL. 

"V\7HEN Sherman came, on us to call, 

We let him empty barn and stall. 
We let him take our hens and pigs, 
Stock, grain and all, and lent him nigs, 
And always kept awake at night, 
So we could view, with him, the sight 
Of our dear homes, so sadly burned, 
While he our claims for justice spurned. 



EMANCIPATION PRETEXT. 

"DUT I digress. 'Tis hard to stick 

To subjects slimed with Yanks, so slick. 
'Twas down in Dixie, '64; 
Where now flows milk, flowed human gore: 
Where now reigns peace, on law enthroned, 
The wicked then the sinning stoned : 
Where then the slave on orders flew, 
He struts as free as birds and you. 

Now Fate had secretly decreed 

That all the negroes should be freed : 

But never did the pretext lend 

For Northern vandals to descend 

Upon and rob the South by force, 

Nor rant and yell themselves quite hoarse 

With vilest, venom-seasoned slander. 

But pious frauds who, bowed, meander 
To church, to burn, in God's name witches; 
Who would in no cause fight in ditches, 
Would beard old a ^e, or butcher youth, 
Bribe sin with guilt, and murder truth; 
Sick poverty would crush to powder, 
Slander-wreck homes and pray the louder; 



[>] 

Rob chastity, and sell to brutes, 

And gild their church-fame with the fruits. 

'Tis they that stir brave men to fiht ; 
Them.with lies &mm they thus excite : 



"You now exist o'er threat' ning craters, 
Whose fires are fed by Southern traitors ;" 
The while themselves were traitors, hacking 
Our constitution, spite ne'er slacking 
Until before the nation knew it, 
They into war's hot furnace threw it. 

If they to Heaven could steal their way, 
In Heaven they'd start a hell to-day. 






A! 



[31] 

R. E. LEE. 

S we were driven to secede, 
"Or swallowed be by Yankee greed, 
Just glance all through the war and see 
Some grand achievements of our Lee. 
To the Potomac see him chase 
Vast hordes of Yanks, who win the race. 
See army after army fall, 
That thought to crush his legions small. 

See brave McClellan, cool and cunning, 
With great display for Lee go gunning. 
Yes, see him come with hopeful face ; 
See Lee retire him in disgrace, 
Then show to braggart Pope the sport 
Of "chasing Rebel hordes" to port. 

He thrashed Pope well, and took his gun, - 
And jarred the earth with great "Bull Run." 
Then Burnside, vain, pranced up for fight, 
And thought our Lee would run with fright : 
But Lee, with blood, put out his flame, 
And left him mired in endless shame. 

Next Hooker, bold, he had to tame, 
Whom soon he lost to sight and fame. 



[32] 

And other Yankee lions tried 

To face our Southern boys, and - died, 







OUR I.KE 
Our L,ee, the greatest chief, when armed, 
L,arge odds to flight, it seems, he charmed. 



[33] 

Great men flew at him, on, pell mell ; 

His genius singed their wings — they fell. 

Like angry waves against Gibraltar, 

They rushed, and roared, and surged, to falter, 

And roll back breathless, on retreat, 

A fiercer onslaught to repeat. 

Though oft beat back, while doubling strength, 
This rough erosion wore, at length, 
The granite cliffs of Lee away, 
And then the South in ruins lav. 



LION TAMERS. 

H^HE North had lions fierce, 'tis true: 

Quite strong and brave, and not a few 
Who shone out best as promise framers 
When Rebs turned loose their lion-tamers. 



McCLELLAN. 
A/TcCi.Ei<i.an stood — the tallest peak 

Of Yankee fame — ' twas Greek to Greek. 
He did not rout and capture Lee — 
No man then lived that could, you see. 
His brethren hasty, jealous, wrong, 
Sold him — their Joseph — for a song. 



[34] 
THE DEVIL. 

>TVHE Devil himself, with all his wiles, 
Though he had mustered all his files, 
And poured from hell its blazing hosts 
Of weird and deathless demon ghosts, 
And counselled wisest demon sages, 
Amassed through countless rotten ages — 
Though Hades guardless roared and flamed- 
The Devil, I say, could ne'er have tamed 
Poor home-defending Dixie's power, 
And pulled her down, at once to cower. 



U. S. GRANT. 

TDRAVE Grant, our wise and noble foe, 

Found fighting Dixie fraught with woe. 
He picked up L,ee, exhausted, bled, 
As hunters pick up game when dead. 
He fought the South as soldier brave, 
Then eased her kindly to her grave. 
In vict'ry's whitest heat unharmed, 
This oft-tried diamond glittered, charmed. 



[35] 




OUR STONEWALL JACKSON. 



"M*EXT, Jackson's record see, to praise. 

It did, and will, the world amaze. 
Of Hooker, Burnside, Shields and Banks, 
And more, he reaped a host of Yanks. 



[36] 

With active steel and lead-winged prayers, 
He shoved a few up "Golden Stairs," 
While thousands down the road he lamped; 
And stuffed Hades until she cramped. 
And yet his death blurred Yankee eyes- — 
Not them choke-full of infamies, 
But hero Yanks — with heart shed dew, 
Because, they said, "he's brave and true." 



«--S^: 



IF— OH, IF! 

AND other "Rebels," brave and gifted, 
Who if our yoke they well had lifted, 
And held it up to Yankee shame, 
Would e'er have shone as stars of fame, 
And stood through time on hist'ry's pages, 
With heads above the dust of ages — 
And yet they will ; though Time's decay 
Shall rot the fame of Rome away. 



[37] 




OUR PRESIDENT DAVIS. 

QMJCH men as Davis — whoop ! hurrah 
For Southern chivalry and law! ! — 



[38] 

I'd say't or t tT, though tied and throttled ! 

I keep my "Rebel" views well bottled, 

But Yankee brag the cork kicks out, 

And then I'd die or for them shout 

Who dared be true through war's mad whirls — 

Our braves ! Jeff Davis ! ! Southern Girls ! ! ! 

Jeff Davis, grand, our throne of power, 

And target, every day and hour, 

For slander-poisoned shafts of foes, 

And, worse than these, back-handed blows 

From bigot friends of less position, 

Or disappointed home ambition ; 

Though wise and true, because not God 

To raise armed soldiers from the sod, 

And save, through war, an untouched brood, 

And speak hot ashes into food, 

Some say he was not true, or great. 

Measure his worth by Yankee hate : 

And as a mountain peak he towered 

O'er plains with love and honor flowered, 

Well mixed with thorns of jealous hate, 

Which always grow to wound the great. 

High peak of rare humanity, 
Shadowing hills of vanity — 



[39] 

Above the wreck of law's abduction, 
Base slander's storms, and reconstruction; 
No longer handling "Rebel" thunder, 
That shook the world to fear and wonder, 
He, snow-capped, stood till death, admired, 
True, honored statesman, war-retired. 

And death, the advocate of fame, 

Hath left a record of .his name, 

His greatness, loyalty to right 

And home through winds of with 'ring blight, 

Cut deep in flinty walls of Time ; 

A record chastely grand, sublime. 



OTHER HEROES. 

AT OR were these all that won Earth's praise. 

A. S. Johnson, cut short of days, 
And Joseph E. — no less a man, 
True patriot, and chieftain grand, 
Though underrated, wronged by fate — 
And Beauregard and Bragg, all great : 

And Longstreet — 'tis but just to say, 

None loved and honored more the "gray:" 

Though he should don the devil's crown, 

He ne'er should see a Southern frown. 

The battles he so bravely won us 

Should blot the wrongs he may have done us — 



C'4o] 

If some. His loyalty, war-tested, 
Should not, in peace, e'er be molested. 

There's Picket, Price, Hood, Early, Kwell, 
Who piled up SheoPs fires with fuel ; 
While Stewart, dashing Fitz Hugh Lee, 
Bold Morgan, Forrest, wild and free, 
And Hampton, brave, pursued to trap 
The fleeing Yanks all o'er the map. 

Breckenridge, Colquitt, Wright, fought hard, 
And gallant Gordon — honor scarred — 
And more, whose names a book would fill. 
Let's close with — after heroes Hill — 
Smith, Buckner, Baylor, Wise, Mahone. 
Mahone? Should him the South disown? 




HELL-REJECTED BROWNS. 
^IpHAT ' 'Southern rights' ' we might enthrone, 
We mowed details of Yanks — a host — 



[4i] 

And rushed them off with "John Brown's 

ghost;" 
Who knock at hell in vain, and frown 
To think their ' 'souls must march' ' with Brown. 
I've dreamed they never rest, but "march;" 
Ne'er cool their guilt-stained tongues that parch; 
Expecting, daily, fire-bug S., 
"Old Cockeyed Spoons," and all that mess. 

Witch-burning "saints," with pious flags, 
And negro fiends with "scalawags," 
And soldier brutes that raped and burned, 
Base politicians — Devil-spurned — 
Through ages, dull, must "march on" so 
As worlds and nations come and go. 

All through the stillness of the night, 
They '11 sleepless tramp on — "right-left-right!" 
And gloom the hours, while nature frowns, 
Beset with hell-rejected "Browns." 



NOBLE YANKEE DEAD. 

TF "this assails the decent ghosts 

Of brave, lamented Yankee hosts — 
The fighting hosts — 'tis wrongly said, 
For praise is due the noble dead. 
When Yanks behave well, late and early, 
Why — then, they're good as "Rebs" — or 
nearly. 



[42] 



The "bluecoat" soldiers who were brave, 
Who fought, the Union flag to save, 
Were conscientious — take for granted — 
As we, who on our ' 'states' rights' ' planted 
Our fate — our all. Our "states' rights" stout, 
And bold in law — by war shot out — 
In our old constitution kept 
A place high up, 'til justice slept. 

But why say more? The war is closed, 

And thinking "Rebs" are all disposed 

To yield allegiance, true to law, 

And praise the braves who "broke our jaw," 

For they were gallant — truth comes slow — 

They had to be, to whip us so. 

Not they, but scalawags and cranks 

Shall march, fore'er, in "John Brown's" ranks. 




THE MKRRIMAC AND MONITOR. 

^HAT nothing's grander, all agree, 
Than yonder scene. With glasses see 



[43] 

The Merrimac and Monitor, 

Like Death and Devil grappled for 

Annihilation : usage breaking, 

For fateful war a new life waking, 

Kretting the shores of earth and time 

With battle, strange, most grand, sublime! 

They lightning shame, with bolts of speed, 
And Beelzebub, with deathful greed. 
These monsters now, with hidden motions, 
Crowned kings of frightful war and oceans, 
Low in the water dauntless squat, 
With insides fire and hate red hot, 
Whose fire-tongues hiss, fume, roar and smoke, 
As if Hades aloose had broke. 

See twin volcanoes hurl hot boulders, 

And shed the pounders from their shoulders; 

Bellowing, booming, talking thunder, 

Threatening to rive the earth asunder: 

The distant stars of heaven shocking, 

Old ocean's cradle roughly rocking, 

Our satellites too nearly wrecking, 

The march of solar systems checking. 

Which makes the Sun forget his course, 

He's so absorbed; who threat's to force 






[44] 

His way through pathless, gazing skies; 
The stars, off balance, turn their eyes, 
Making the world at least careen 
With viewing war's most wondrous scene. 




THE GEORGIA RATTLERS. 

"TpWAS as a private, I — ne'er fought? 

Get out ! Wild Yanks I never caught? 
My own war record, did you say? 
Inquire of Gen'ral Stoneman, pray, 
About "The Georgia Rattlers :" why 
He so gave up, and did not try 
To e'en escape. 



[453 

It came up thus : 
'Twas noised that some bold Yankee cuss 
Was on a raid, and headed hither. 
Thinking his blooming fame to wither, 
Or nip him in the bud, and save 
Our homes, we organize. The grave 
We rob of gray -beards ; cradles search 
For boys, pinfeathered, who can pearch 
On old plow-jades, and then, for drilling, 
Pluck furloughed "Rebs," quite lame, but 
willing : 

And these, with rusty guns and locks — 
"Flint locks" and "cap," and broken stocks 
All pieced and patched, so loose they rattle 
Enough to frighten dogs and cattle — 
We arm. Old guns, with beds burnt clear, 
While shooting front, will kick the rear ; 
So riders, when from horses picked, 
Don't know if they are shot or kicked. 

'Twas thus we lost our men from kicking-, 
While we, in front, blamed Yanks were licki?ig. 

With hat palmetto, rope-reined nag, 
Old clothes and grub tied in a rag ; 
With rattling cap-box, shoes rawhide, 



[46] 

Rawhide for rattling saddles, tied, 

And shot in gourds that rattle loud, 

We mount old bones that rattling plowed. 

These fragments brave, and buds of men, 

And sere-leaves, armed thus — aches thrown in r 

And wooden legs, and hands that rattle, — 

Now gallop off, heart- ripe for battle. 

Of course the day is wet with tears. 
Steeds prance, and rattle ; boyish cheers 
Smite mother's ears with harder grief 
Than all they've felt before. In brief, 
Though cradle plucked, of war unwise, 
Or lame or bent, Yanks needn't despise 
The "Georgia Rattlers," who, forsaken 
By discipline, make speed toward Macon. 

We rattle, rattle, speed along 
In quest of battle, eighty strong. 

Alas! too oft our hopes are slain. 
Shrewd Stoneman got the word by train 
That we were now in hot pursuit, 
And hoped to pull him green. Our fruit ? 
He dared not risk it; luck-fame stilted, 
In other hands he gladly wilted. 



[47] 




WHO SAVED THE UNION? 



T^TIIvD Yanks seemed plenty; all the same, 
When "Rattlers" marched, they soon 
got tame. 
Whene'er we -learned wild Yanks had risen, 
Pursuit would find them fled to — prison. 
The Georgia Rattlers, in disgust — 
For fear the "Rebel" cause would bust, 
With all the North in prison feeding, 
While rations for ourselves were needing — 
Deciding that fairness demanded 
That Yanks should have a chance — disbanded. 
So don't you see — excuse the brag — 
Who 'twas that saved the Union flag? 



[48] 

Soon Sherman called ; he helped some, too; 
He burned the gray, to warm the blue. 
I half suspect he must have known 
The "Georgia Rattlers," scattered, gone, 
Did not intend his flight to hinder. 
The world knows he did not surrender. 



PRIVATES, BLUE AND GREY. 

pivEASE let it not be understood 

That ne'er a private did much good ; 
Or that he less deserves renown 
Because, on foot, he earned a crown — 
A hero's crown of olive leaf, 
Which custom placed upon his chief. 

How much to battle would they yield, 
If only gen'rals held the field? 

In Heav'n or Hell what worth is gold, 
Where labor is not bought and sold ? 
Who oils the wheels of governments 
But horny-handed private gents? 
What worth's a fact'ry bare of hands? 
With none to do, what worth commands? 



[49] 

Can drivers drive without a team ? 

Do kings, 'thout subjects, royal seem? 

So war would be with privates out, 
For vict'ry ne'er could be nor rout. 
War's mudsills, privates are, and prop, 
Which, when knocked out, the war must stop. 
With their front face all victory deals, 
And wholly turns upon their heels. 



RESURRECTED BRIGADIERS. 
"VX7ITH ball and blade the Yanks knocked out 
"Mudsills and props" — four years, about — 
Till Dixie, propless, reeled and fell ; 
And, buried 'neath the wreck a spell, 
There lay our mangled brigadiers, 
All silent, cold. Along the years, 
They "rose again," in congress, where 
They now our Union help upbear, 
Ne'er entertaining ghosts of yore, 
At least ought not, on duty's floor. 



REBEL HEELS AND WESTERN YANKS. 

T SPOKE of heels : In this connection, 
I light upon the proud reflection 



[50] 

That "Rebel" heel ne'er saw its foes 
'Til cruel de.ith upturned its toes. 
Or hardly e'er, I should have said. 

The Western Yanks, you know, when led 
By such as Grant, with "Uncle Sam" 
To back them up with arms and ham ; 
With Sheridan, who ne'er disdains 
To round up raids and forage trains ; 
And such as these, who never tire ; 
With Sherman, who can whip, with fire, 
Old Nick ; with him, to make things blazy, 
And kiss she imps, to run them crazy — 
They soon could make the devil yell — 
Whip, burn, or starve him out of hell ; 
And then could put the world to rout — 
Just leaving only Dixie out. 
Then armed with Dixie and her gun, 
Could chase the world around for fun. 



FRANCE AND HKR GAMK. 

(~\F this "the world" is well aware. 
Our eagle, see ! she — almost bare 
With fighting, while talons and beak 
Are buried deep in Dixie's cheek, 



[5i] 

And there's no time to watch wolf-sneaks — 
Spies France, unbills the South and shrieks, 
Makes France unbend and look quite tame, 
And drop her precious Mex'can game, 
And, trembling, slink away, though soured 
To leave such prey all undevoured. 

If, crippled thus, the North so did, 

What could our solid union do ? 
Could cage the world, and hold the lid, 

And all the nations rumage through. 



SOUTHERN GIRLS. 

"DUT I degress. 'Tis '64 : 

War, jaded, pants from shore to shore. 
Dear Southern girls cheer boys in grey, 
And for them toil and for them pray ; 
For though their cause looks dark as night, 
'Tis grand to be a Reb when right. 

The "stars and bars" upheld in death, 
The "Rebel yell" on dying breath 
Breathed in advance of starved command, 
While fighting odds for vantage stand, 
In story bright should linger long, 
And grandly soar on poet's song ; 



[>] 

But grandest things in war's mad whirls 
Were brave, determined Southern girls. 




Our Southern Girl, with heart of steel, 
Fine tempered, polished, true, genteel, 
Enchained earth's praise when called in need, 
By every sort of noble deed. 



[53] 

Just see her toil ; with untried broom, 
And with the spinning-wheel and loom ; 
And in the fields directing slaves 
For food and clothes for Southern braves. 
With hat palmetto, bay-dressed hair, 
This timid flow'r the storm doth dare. 

And see her nurse the sick and lame 
Through gun-shot aches and fever's flame; 
And writing word to light the way, 
And cheer the /agged boys in grey; 
And stitching "death or freedom" flags 
From ante-bellum scraps and rags, 
And at the dying soldier's side, 
And as a noble Southron's bride. 

With sparkling eyes and form perfection, 
With kiss-ripe lips, rose-bud complexion ; 
Rough shoes on tiny, active feet — 
Too rough for one so trickling sweet — 
With large magnolia bloom on breast, 
Where none but noblest head should rest, 
For purer bosom ne'er did swell — 
Ne'er sweeter creature reigned a belle. 

With ready hands for helpful deed, 
(Though heart and country sorely bleed,) 



[54] 

She's wreathed with heartsease smiles for all, 
Except when tears, too ripe, must fall. 
Home blessings, rich, forever shedding, 
And paths of goodness ever treading, 
Her past as clean as driven snow, 
Her hopes with purest love aglow, 
In homespun dress she flits and sings — 
An angel, but for lack of wings. 




And Justice now, though tardy, should, 

In honor to the brave and good, 

Krect among the clouds, to fame 

A shaft, with her resplendent name — 

'Neath statue fine, of lovely face, 

Of modest mien, and full of grace — 

With flowers thus inscribed : "God BLESS 



[55 J 

The heroines in homespun dress;" 
Unfading writ, that time's decay 
Shall never wear her fame away. 



WRONG'S RECOIL. 

gUT I forget; 'tis '64. 

Stray, foam-flecked news rips hearts to core. 
The mockingbird, in graveyard tree, 
Sings dirges o'er the death-made free. 
Magnolia blooms are tinged with red, 
And drooped from breathing stench of dead — 
Our heroes dead, pursued and slain 
By animals that sprang from Cain, 
Who hire the coarsest foreign brutes, 
And fight our braves with substitues: 
Dog-throttle sovereigns, stain our soil — 
But Fate is just in wrong's recoil. 



*££ 



(3^ 



<£ 



[56] 






^^T'^'l 



? 




£*--^£ 



FADED FLOWERS. 

T^EATH greedily on life still grazes, 

For war moves on with blood and blazes. 
The war-god now more reckless grows, 
As brother's blood more freely flows. 



[57] 

The North whipped back, grown passion blind, 
Worse hacks the flower of humankind; 
Sows hatred, want, and death broadcast, 
With cruel speed that shames the past; 
Makes ashes, hunger, tears and graves, 
O'erwept by "weeds" that mourn our braves, 
Where desolation blacks the hours, 
And everywhere are faded flowers. 



RE-ERECT THE RUINS OF WAR. 

"DUT by the fields sweet jasmine creeps, 
To spread again and bloom in season; 

And in the crib a baby sleeps, 

To grow a queen of pow'r and reason; 

To re-erect the ruins of war, 

To deal out justice, wrong abhor. 

Whose honor ne'er can shrink so slim, 

Her country's deeds to e'er condemn. 

Who'll fit herself to time and age, 

But ne'er disgrace her heritage. 



[58] 




FATE'S DECREE. 

*"pHAT babe — ah see! about her hovers 

A friendly sprite that now discovers 
Of this young queen's career, a vision, 
And writes it out, by Fate's Decision. 

'Tis '64, imagine, please, 

That you may comprehend with ease. 



[59] 

Sire Fate's enraged at Yank oppression, 
That mutilates enforced secession; 
At wrongs heaped up, in name of right — 
Right born to knaves by conscious might, 
And sired by selfish, fiendish greed — 
But here's the sentence-record, read: 

"Thou nursling, of the 'Old South' born, 

I name thee 'New South,' with my blessing. 
Thou' It soon be orphaned; then thy morn 

Will ope', o'er hung with clouds distressing. 
Such clouds as ignorance unbound, 

With vermin carpet-baggers, scattered 
To lodge, where footing can be found, 

To gnaw thy baby sores, 'til mattered, 
And on, 'til choked from places raw 
By long outraged, now helpless law. 

"The vermin fat, away they'll steal, 
And then thy sores will quickly heal; 
Thoul't soon be nursed to strength again, 

And age will grant thee wisdom's arm 
To open up a peaceful reign, 

Such as will give the North alarm; — 
That jealous jade shall soon be fixed 
To die of drugs herself hath mixed. 



[6o] 

"Thy Georgia's fruit and ore and mills, 
Thy wealth in Alabama's hills, 
Iron and coal in Tennessee, 
And all thy wealth of negroes free, 
With Louisiana's sugar cane, 
Florida fruit and Texas Grain 
On rolling prairies, large and fine, 
And cotton everywhere and pine. 

"In all the South thy varied wealth — 

Thy sunshine, flowers, priceless health — 

Shall overshadow, govern all; 

Shall fatten on the North's spent gall, 

And on her wealth, which she will bring thee T 

With songs of love which she will sing thee, 

As choicest brains and manhood meet 

She'll sacrifice at thy proud feet; 

'Tis then that roofs about the 'Hub' 

Shall rot and wreck, or serve to keep 
L,one hypocrites and every scrub, 

With owls and bats and things that creep." 

Fate added, as the sheet he filed, 
"So mote it be; God bless the child!" 

And so say I; but I degress, 
Let's back to Yankee wickedness. 



[6i] 

THE YANKEE CAT. 

QREAT "Rebel" deeds the world did dazzle, 

But wore the South to such a frazzle, 
(Re-whipping Yanks), we had not time, 
Nor change of clothes — h$w'er sublime 
Our gains — nor food enough in store 
To kill the blamed cat "nine times o'er." 

Then should we more Yanks take or kill? 
Old hell is full and And'sonville. 
Why choke weeds reap ? as heretofore, 
They'll be replaced with tenfold more. 

'Twas unfair winds, not battle rout, 
That blew poor Dixie's candle out. 

Hard pressed in front, in rear, on flanks, 
Outnumbered, starved and butchered up, 

"Worn out at last with whipping Yanks," 
Poor Dixie drained the gall-filled cup. 




[62] 

THE OLD AND NEW. 

^FHE "Old South" died, the "new" was born. 

In ashes cradled, sick, forlorn; 
Of boundless, rich resources queen, 

But paralyzed in every nerve 
By fateful war, with foemen mean 

And robber enemies to serve, 
While basely robbed and rudely throttled 

By licensed scalawags and blacks; 
Of pauper subjects, mixed and mottled, 

Required to raise a pension tax. 



THE SOCIAL POT. 

'"THE North, by her fanatics fixed 
A post-war drug — for Dixie mixed. 

She mixed the races, stirred us up, 
With gall poured in — oh ! many a cup! 
Compounded well with hands of hate, 
And then on law's war-broken grate, 
Hard-boiled o'er fire of "reconstruction, 
By faggots fed, of fiend's production, 



[63] 

Which stew smelt foul of scalawags, 
Law mockery, and "carpet bags." 

Exhausted Dixie drank and lay 

Prone in the dust, for many a day, 

'Til outraged law arose to quell 

The drug-armed fiends — to break the spell 

Drove off the scalawags, and we, 

Long bound and gagged, to rise were free. 

The social pot did boil and bubble, 
And overflowed with hell and trouble, 
Deep scalding blacks and whites — sad sight- 
Till scalawags were lawed to flight. 



FREED MEN AND CARPET-BAGGERS. 

"TILL then the "nig," with rusted wit, 

Could not with facts make freedom fit, 
But floated blissfully in skies 
Of fiendish carpet-bagger lies, 



[64] 

Of which a promise I will name, 
So horrid it old Nick should shame. 

The promise was, "A white man's mule 
And forty acres each and school, 
Which your old master soon shall teach." 
And more, the nig, with gall of speech 
Was told: "Before you go to farming, 
To make your life more free and charming, 
The haughty Southern race to blast, 
With mistress white reverse the past; 
Each choose a Southern girl of tone, 
And charms, and take her as your own. 
Then other 'Rebs' you'll hire to work, 
And give them h — 1 if it they shirk." . 

Can man with mortal tongue and breath 

E'er say such fiends deserve not death, 

By roasting slow o'er burning logs, 

Including all the yelping dogs ? 

If so, that tongue should rot and find him 

Both deaf and dumb, and then should blind 

him, 
Who here with aches fore'er should revel — 
Too mean for hell ! too coarse for devil ! 



[65 ] 




With Insolence Busting* 



Thus tutored, "nig" — insanely thirsting 
For "glory," with insolence bursting — 
Went strutting, stretching freedom's gause, 
Yet working not, except his jaws, 
While freedom-drunk till starved in tatters, 



[66] 

When dreams gave way to living matters. 
He sometimes found his freedom tough, 
And treatment for his sauce quite rough. 
He fonnd in "Rebs" a chord uncrushed, 
Which chord, 'to him, was sweetest hushed. 




WHO WAVES THE BLOODY SHIRT? 



A CLASS of Yanks-quite small, thank God!- 

Still lives, disgracing freedom's sod ; 
A class that's always loudly brave 
When danger's flag is furled ; to save 
Themselves for future fights, they shun, 
And from all present dangers run. 



[67] 

They — vomit of Hades most foul, 
Who in the rear of war would prowl, 
To rob and revel — 'tis they 
Who wave the "bloody shirt" to-day. 
They stir the South and keep her boiling ; 
Enrage the blacks and keep them roiling, 
To make the South kick out of traces 
To quell a Yank-brkd war of racks. 



SLAVES. 

T)OOR blacks ! Once kind, and free of ire, 

Are shoved by Yanks into the fire ; 
More sinned against by Yankee mouth 
Than e'er against them sinned the South. 

Negroes, like whites, are streaked with crime, 
Which sorts with ignorance and grime. 
But right demands that all should know 
That they as faithful slaves did go 
To do our bidding, promptly, when 
Our homes long masterless had been. 
Our helpless ones they fed ; were proud, 
When they could lift from us a cloud. 
And when our cloudy hearts rained tears, 
The sighing winds smote hard their ears ; 
And ere the flames of grief were quenched, 
Their cheeks were oft o'erflowed or drenched. 



[68] 

Whene'er I see an old slave face 

That shows distress, who knows his place, 

I'll ease, with friendly hand, his pain, 

And lift him to his feet again. 

So ex-slave owners feel to-day, 

And always will, whate'er Yanks say. 




CARPET-BAGGERS. 

T ONG drugged by Yankee spite and greed, 
At length poor "cuif" from fraud was freed, 
He woke disgusted, went to work, 
And nursed a frenzied will to dirk 
The walking snakes with carpet-bags — 
The soulless, buzzard scalawags — 
Who robbed the whites, the nigs corrupted. 
And now with Ku-klux were disgusted ; 



[69] 

And having Dixie's bones well stripped, 
As fugitives from justice skipped ; 
And stealings changed for cloaks to wear 
O'er Honor's every rent and tear. 

But death will strip their brilliant cloaks, 
And rivet on them demon's yokes ; 
And Heaven's doors will slam them back, 
To char in Hell till crisp and black. 



FROM ASHES RISEN. 

EXHAUSTED thus and pinioned down, 
'Twas thought our Queen would wear no 
crown, 
Nor fetters break, nor grasp her powers, 
Nor rule the land of wealth and flowers. 
But Phoenix ne'er did rise before 
So nobly from such ashy shame ; 
Nor e'er did one so grandly soar 
From Shed's gloom to heights of fame. 

Awaked, at last, by want and goading — 
And smartened up, we went to loading 
Earth's commerce full, with fruits of toil, 
Dug from our hills, plucked from our soil— 
From nature's richest, choicest stores 



[70] 

Of hidden wealths that girt our shores, 
And base our hills — long hid from EASE 
and luxury, in soil, rocks, trees. 



GEN SHERMAN. 

'"pHE bloody stage of camps and graves 
Old Time hath swept of war and slaves. 

:Scold Sherman seems of gall deranged, 
Which shows that times have greatly changed. 
The nation happpy ? All are glad ! 
The world's at peace, when Sherman's mad. 

"Men brave, are gen'rous too,'' 'tis said, 
And ne'er assault them down or dead. 

Who strutted, bully-like, around, 
Assaulting Dixie, gagged and bound ? 
When Truth gets ripe — Truth, fruit of Time- 
When sectional malice, hate and slime 
Are buried in a pauper's grave, 
Will History say that he was brave ? 

If he'd but cool his malice down, 
And drive away his Southern frown, 
And speak a gentle, gen'rous thought 



[7'] 

Of Dixe, whom he charred and fought, 
Then, hate dismissed, cold truth would say: — 
"Though he gave torch and pillage sway, 
And winked at brutal wrongs, his fame 
Was won with skill and nerve; whose name, 
Perched high on Hist' ry's motley pages, 
Will go resounding down the ages." 



WE YIELD BUT NOT AS TRAITORS. 

A PENSION loyalty we yield; 

Will Lead in fight our flag to shield; 
Submit to history's base perversion; 
For widespread peace will make exertion; 
But who would not spill blood to swim in, 
Must libel not our dead and women. 

We do, and will, abide the laws, 
Will help repair our nation's flaws; 
But whene'er hate shall so misguide — 

Tried soldiers? Ne'er !-Young Yank beraters, 
That they shall long for suicide, 
Just let them madly call us traitors. 



[72] 

OUR QUEEN THE SOUTH. 

OUR Queen, the South, of noble birth, 

To blooming womanhood is growing. 
She'll wed the Sun, and rule the earth, 

While peace, and love, and comfort sowing. 
She'll dress in cotton, wool and silk, 

All made at home in proper hours, 
While o'er the land flows honey, milk, 

And wine, through banks of bread and 
flowers. 

She'll ope' the doors of charity wide, 
The lamp of learning hold with pride. 
Will take to nurse, in snow white arms, 

And soothe upon her heart-warm breast, 
Disabled "Rebs," whom, free of harms, 

She will protect till Heav'n blessed. 

Our pension Yanks — foot, horse and tars, 

Though they 6 ' er spread the earth quite soon— 
We'll feed — though we must seed the stars, 
And house — though we must rent the moon. 



[73] 
MOVING SOUTHWARD. 

AS birds in autumn southward swarm, 

From winter's chilling blast, and storm, 
The North is headed down this way, 
With dogs and all and come to stay 

Hoot-owls to breed are now beginning, 
Will train their young to sing old ditties, 

Where sang mock-pious Yanks, while sinning, 
In soon-to be deserted cities. 

Our pension Yanks, that we may feed — 

That they no more in wrong shall roam, 
And that we may improve the breed — 
We'll bring, and keep them nearer home. 



THE ORAY A DAY, THEN ALWAYS 
BLUE. 

QMDON time will bring a glorious day: 

We'll have our Yanks well housed and fed, 
And looms should weave no cloth but "gray," 
In honor of our noble dead. 

And then we'll all resume the "blue." 
Worn now upon our backs, 'tis true: 



[74] 

When tongue and pen's spite- venomed darts 
Yanks stop, ' 'the bluk' ' wiu, clothe our 

HEARTS. 



HAVE WE NO FEELING? 

r^AN Yanks suppose we have no feeling? 
Are they with dogs or stone-life dealing? 
Can coarse abuse wring from our heart 




By Every Sort of Noble Deed, 



[75] 

Sad thoughts of by-gones, which they start, 
And wake, to ache our souls ? If mad 
We shall not be, may'nt we be sad ? 
Or glad, and show it, 'thout their mouth 
O'er slobb'ring our affairs here South? 



BLOATED TRAMPS. 

Q^OME Yanks, e'en now, come South, afoot, 

Asperse our names and gather loot : 
Sow race discord and poison peace; 
Don't like our ways, yet stay to fleece 
Estrays. 

If fire be hot, give pain, 
Why in it do the knaves remain ? 
But this is just the way of Yanks: — 
Not decent Yanks, but thieves and cranks. 
God bless the fact that but. a few 
Such gutter bloats disgrace the "blue." 



PEACE ! BE STILL ! 

A LL'S o'er; and Peace and Right demand 

That Slander's hordes at once disband. 
Let's have the angry waves "be still !" 



[76] 

Of wreck and strife let's "stop the mill. 
With flowers of peace and love, to-day, 
Let's strew our land, then all can say: 




WE ALL ARE YANKS. 

'"pHE greatest power on earth, though new, 

The war-united "gray and blue," 
So peaceful, modest, wise and strong, 
Need not submit to foreign wrong. 
Our suicidal wounds are healed; 
Bold Enterprise works mill and field; 
Enthroned now reign Love, Peace and Law , 
Since wisdom broke Fanatic's jaw. 
We now can stand a goose's gabble, 
Can grieve for Yanks yoked up with cabal — 
But why not pardon geese and cranks ? 
The war is closed— WE ALL ARE YANKS. 



[773 
AS LOYAL YANKS LET'S FIX. 

AS Yanks, our Union running gear 

Let's fix, that humblest men need fear 
No wrong from law. And let's invite 
Wide trade relations; guard the right 
Of all alike, of bankers, diggers — 
And authors, too, as well as "niggers." 

Let's irrigate, when ieuds are furled, 
And add to earth another world. 
And let's quit peddling Presidencies, 
So fraught with dangerous consequences. 



NEW ENGLAND'S CARE. 

/^\UR Indians, all, that long for gore, 

Let's send to good New England's shore; 
And all our Chinese, too, send there, 
So they'll be sure of loving care. 




[78] 

SOCIAL RIGHTS. 

Toward social fights let's make advance 
By giving Southern whites a chance, 
Unmeddled with by Northern cranks — 
Else whafs the good of being Yanks ? 



ONWARD. 

j ET'S stop the wholesale emigration 
*^Of sewer-rats from every nation; 
Let's have our for'ners 'Mer'canized, 
Lest we ourselves be foreignized. 

Then stuff the engine Progress full 

Of loyalty and enterprise, 

And let both k 'Yanks" and "Rebs" all pull 

The throttle wide, until she flies 

Toward greatness, lit by grandeur's flame, 

'Til thrones proclaim our nation's fame, 

And trembling nations gaze and wonder 

Because we poke no more, abl under, 

O'er home-made pits and wrecks, but speed 

The more, of war and slavery freed. 



L79] 

A BLOODY DREAM. 

j ET'S blot the dark, unhallowed past 
^With love, and bind the Union fast, 
And all together onward move 
In our great Constitution's groove, 
And reck' the war a threadbare theme — 
A nation's midnight bloody dream. 






pi'iscc\\ar)£Qu<) Poen?s + 



INTRODUCTORY." 

( To Miscellaneous Poems.) 



fF skies once dark are set with stars, 

And you can leave the helm 'thout fear- 
All anchored down with Hope — ye tars, 

Go on the tropic shore, so near, 
'Mong ferns and flowers, weeds and brakes; 
But look ye well — keep off the snakes. 



%%%%%% 



[83] 



THE "GRAY" TO THE "BLUE." 

Written on the occasion of the G. A. R. Reunion in San Fwns 
cisco , August, 1886. 

H^HE city's honored sons, with pride, 
The city's gates have opened wide, 

To welcome in the coming tide 
Of vet'rans, brave and true. 

They've gaily decorated halls, 

Stores, dwellings, teams, and sireets and walls, 

Prepared for feasting, and for balls, 

To greet the boys in blue. 

As Soldiers did I say they come, 

With stefl, and lead, and torch, and drum, 

The "Rebel" flag, and life, and home 

In battle to destroy? 
No ! Peace has dulled their steel with rust; 
Imbedded warring lead in dust ; 
Decreed that torches blaze — but just 

For patriotic joy. 

We fought you? Yes! Brave boys in blue,. 
We, starved and ragg'd, were brave as you ; 



[84] 

And, right or wrong, to Cause were true — 

The cause we mourn as lost. 
Not mourn because we would revive it 
Among the braves that still survive it; — 
'Tis lost ! from mem'ry we would drive it— 
Our gain exceeds the cost. 

Two finely tempered steels, you know, 
Consuming heat must undergo, 
And cruel crushing blow on blow, 
To weld them into one. 
Red-hot with rage, we blows, and rout, 
And victory exchanged: — let's shout, 
"The steels are cold ! the fires are out ! 
Hurrah ! the welding's done !" 

Now, hushed is war's sad roar and rattle; 
No more there's smoke and fire of battle, 
Where brave men rush like driven cattle 

To death, without a fear. 
From wreck you did the Union save ; 
But could you ask — you who are brave — 
That we make merry o'er the grave 

Of our lost cause so dear ? 

Men brave are noble, blue, or gray: 
Not so the knaves who brag and bray 



[85] 

Until the fight, then run away, 

In peace to stir up strife. 
Extend to us a brother's hand: 
Let's make of this a prosp'rous land; 
Let's honor all the noble band — 
Both "Gray" and "Blue" through life. 

Our war-built Union -giant's aim, 
On land and sea, in wealth and fame, 
All earth to lead, and Nations tame, 

Succeeds unless we sever. 
Not harshly, then, rejoice and yell, 
About our cause that nobly fell; 
We'll help the nation's glory swell — 

The Union build forever. 




[86] 




FROM WAR TO WOOING. 

— OR 

WE'LL ALL BE YANKS. 



(~\F late my love wrapt dreams have fed 
On walks recalled, things sweetly said, 
Bright eyes, soft hands, and lip confection, 
Awaking me to sad reflection. 

On mem'ry now I float away, 

Back through the joy-decked past. A ray 

Of thought, arresting.me, suggests 

A scheme, of peace to free the breasts 

Of "Rebs" and j 'Yanks" of war-born hate- 

Which scheme allow me here to state. 

If all our girls wed "Yankee" men; 
And Northern girls accept "Rebs" in — 



[87] 

To "bonds of wedded love," resolved 
On peace — the problem is evolved. 

The "Section line" will be kissed out, 
And negroes then can go about 
Their business, unmolested, free 
Of section brawls for votes, you see, 
And mud so long thrown o'er the line, 
By Pulpit, Press, by "Saint" and Swine. 

We'll all be peaceful, happy, true. 

As Yanks, we'll love both "Gray" and "Blue." 

Then Yankee flags we all will wave, 

Till Yankee cradles wake the grave, 

And "Blue" and "Gray" ghosts "Amen" shout, 

From Appamattox, to Bull-Run route: 

Till vet'ran bones approve, with rattle, 

What never could result from battle. 

Then states won't be coerced. with arms — 

But arms of love and female charms. 

We'll ne'er curse Yanks; they '11 ne'er bemean us 

Not Soldiers will we keep between us, 

But cradles, happy, laughing, cooing: — 

We'll leap — All Yanks — from War to Wooing. 

El Paso, Texas. 



[88] 




LOVE'S PARADISE- 

MATRJMONY. 



ALAS! alas! Whene'er I ponder 

Love themes, my drowsy heart- thoughts 
wander, 
Ah! back to that sweet Yankee kiss 
I tasted once, with — oh! such bliss! 

To start "Love's scheme of Peace" in motion. 
That ling' ring kiss puts me in notion; 



[89] 

And though I mourned when Dixie fell, 
I think I like some Yanks quite well. 

For, once two roguish Yankee eyes, 
Like Sentinels of Paradise — 
Though Love and I were long apart — 
Stepped in and stole my "Rebel" heart. 

Then I to lips, pearl latticed, clung, 
To Sent'nel eyes plead long, and flung 
My soul down at her feet. Why so? 
And Paradise in sight? You know! 

Then if this "Reb" is missed some day, 
Know ye that "Blue," at last, and "Gray" 
Have formed a Union. Silken bound 
I'll be, with love about me wound, 
A slave from choice, to chains so nice, 
In walls of Love's Sweet Paradise. 




s=^ 



[9o] 



YUM ! YUM!! YUM!!! 

A THOUGHTLESS, harmless, cranky ' 'Reb, ' > 
Who, North or South, for ladies fair 
Would fight, on hearing harmful word 

Of them in malace, anywhere; 
Who praises noble Yankee dead, 
And gallant Sherman, playful said: 

4 'I've wondered much — kiss-starved and lone — 
Why General Sherman hath so grown 
In female favor, that, to kiss 
He seems appointed; sipping bliss 
From pretty girls, to teach and save. 
Though rightly said, "L,uck to the brave," 
His way all precedent surpasses, 
Of kissing pretty Yankee lasses. 

"He seems to have the job — employed 
In way to serve his country best — 

To kiss and keep the girls annoyed 
That kissing they may soon detest. 

"Wise mothers know the risk of blisses 
Their daughters run, when often treated 



[9i] 

To warm, heart welding, lover's kisses — 
Once tasted, sure to be repeated. 

"When hot lips blend o'er tangled arms, 
Souls steep in bliss, quite blind to fashion — 

But Soldier Sherman quells alarms: 

A Sherman's kiss destroys the passion. 

"When girls wont'theed a mother's sermon, 

But kiss right on — she sends for Sherman. 

His flag of cruel war he furls, 

To curse the South and save the girls: 

To teach the pretty Yankee misses 

To ne'er intoxicate on kisses. 

"Yum — goodness, turn away, while he 
With pretty maiden's lips makes free: 
Those kiss starved lips that burn, consume; 
Whose fires he'll quench, and nip their bloom. 

"For rest, he ought t to come down South, 

With words of friendship in his mouth, 

And friendly feeling in his heart, 

And we, I'm sure, will do our part 

To wipe away the bloody past, 

A new-made friendship, strong, to cast. 



[9»] 

We'll see that he all hate dismisses 
O'er royal cheer — but minus kisses. 

"We'll have his, choicest Northern duties 

Attended to — if but the beauties 

Agree. We'll send a substitute „. J|_ 

To— Yum! Oh, Yum!— Would I but suit, 

I'd sacrifice myself for peace, 

And he could take his time to cease 

His labors in the South, while I, 

To serve my country well, would try 

So hard,. If he were much time missing, 

I'd wear my lips all out with kissing. 

Nicejob twould be, so don't deride it; 

Yank girls kiss sweet — they say who've tried it. 

"Now, if I'm sent that place to fill, 

And all my 'Rebel gall' shall spill 

And lose; and I — a joy-crazed crank — 

Kiss subsidized, become a Yank, 

Then — farewell world! Lip bliss I'll sip, 

Dead drunk with joy, till Time shall rip. 

Great stars! How candied love will blaze 

From lips whereon my soul shall graze, 

Till I in molton kisses drown — 

Which shall, though blonde-brunette or brown, 

Hearts melt to mix — Thy Kingdom come, 

O, bliss, to crown me — Yum! Yum!! Yum!!! 




.[93] 
CELEBRATE THE "FOURTH." 

TX)UR in, ye sons of Freedom meet 

With daughters, sons and wives, to greet 
Each other at our City Park, 
And fan the yearly kindled spark 
Of patr'otism, which blazed and burned, 
And haughty British Lion turned, 
Melting away our galling chains, 
And driving despots off, while gains 
Of God blessed battles helped us fix 
Our Freedom's throne, in '76. 

To Freedom's thione come bend the knee; 
Speak, shout and dance, and sing with glee; 
Forget "the war between the States;" 
Let die all race and section hates; 
With Union flags stripe well the town, 
With Union pride all strife let's drown. 
Deep bury feuds in neutral dirt; 
Let rest the weary "Bloody Shirt," 
That mirth may reign supreme one day, 
Upon a throne of harmony. 

While Europe sits on dynamite — 

Where menaced peace is plumed for flight,- 

Let's have our Eagle proudly soar, 



[94] 

Let's shout and make our cannons roar, 
Till monarchs crouch behind their thrones, 
And fear or envy shakes their bones. 
Let's wake them from despotic dreams 
With cheers, while our gay Eagle screams 
O'er states, quite sure no more to sever, 
Whose war-built Union lives forever! 



THE GLORIOUS FOURTH, 

— OR — 

YOUNG AGAIN TO-DAY.* 



A NOTHER glorious Fourth is come, 
With gladsome noise that fills the air, 
While flags unfurled at ev'ry home, 

Wave o'er the brave, the good, the fair. 
Our Eagle soars, 
Our cannon roars, 
The world applauds "Old Glory," 



*Note — In California there are organizations of "Pioneers," 
Native Sons." "Native Daughters." "Old Boys," etc. 



[95] 

While tongue and pen 
Of learned men 
Review our country's story. 



yes, our eagle hovers high, 

O'er valleys broad, and mountain crag; 
Our fire display lights up the sky, 

While Freedom revels neath our flag — 
Red, white and blue, 
Which, always true 
To liberty and right, 

As Trumps took tricks 
In '76, 
And holds them since the fight. 

Come, let us view the grand parade. 

Of pomp and pride, and fine display, 
Of every size and social grade; 
Let's see the human show to-day. 

Our soldier boys, 

So full of joys, 
For smiles are lucky bidders: 

Their buttons flash — 

And how they "mash" 
The pretty maids and "widders." 



[96] 

Not naming all — here comes the band, 

Well followed by its youthful patrons; 
Then "Pioneers, " all smiling, bland, 
And gaily flirting with the matrons. 
Then "Native" Sons"— 
The suns of guns — 
Who capture every "Daughter," 
While shy old "Batch" 
Can't make a match — 
These "Sons" his hopes all slaughter. 

To night by fire-fly lamps we'll stroll ; — 

But look out girls, of Love beware ; 
He'll steal your heart, and hand and soul, 
For inspiration fills the air, 
And Cupid seeks 
To fire your cheeks, 
And hearts — dismissing fears — 
To smiling kneel, 
And kisses steal, 
Which you'l! want back, my dears. 

But see the "Old Boys." See how spry ; 

How young they look, and coy, and shrinking; 
To make a "mash" how hard they try, 

And at the maidens keep on winking. 



[97] 

Old gray-beards dressed 
Out in their best — 

Their wives quite far away — 

Frisk, smile and wink, 
And, prancing, think 

They're young again to-day. 

San Bamardino, California. 




SLAVERY. 

npHE South, when young and much in need, 

Seduced by Northern wiles and greed, 
Did help to sow unhallowed seed 
Of slavery. Older grown and wiser, 
Her gains but proved an appetizer 
For feasts of wealth and splendid ease, 
Encouraged by our laws' decrees 



[98] 



As sin indulged more vicious grows, 
So power grew to cruel blows; 
To moral wrongs that needed righting, 
And Fate soon had the sections fighting. 

The South, o'ercome, results abided — 
"Which side was right"? was ne'er decided. 

The sin's wiped out, the war is o'er, 
Our Union flixed to split no more. 
Then burn the "Bloody Shirt," and bury 
Old feuds. All's peace; rejoice, "be merry. 



33 



;@e 




Aljy FREED- 'TIS WEU,. 

TDEFORE the war, our "Dixie" bloomed, 

And there the slave dwelt long in peace. 



[99] 

He worked and sang, and fine stock groomed, 
As happy, then, as barn-yarl geese. 

With jolly song he "shucked the corn;" 
He "rolled the logs" with merry sport; 

Danced jig and reel from dark till morn, 
But took no stock in civil court. 

He'd dodge "patrollers" just lor fun, 
To dance by the light of the moon 

With "yaller gals," then homeward run 
At break of day, which came too soon. 

No food to buy, no clothes to make, 

No doctor's bills had he to pay; 
Both chicks and melons he could take — 

His thoughts were only of "to-day." 

With good coon-dog near cabin tied, 
And well strung banjo on his knee, 

And happy children by his side — 
How could he wish to be more free? 

Of course this means those slaves well placed, 
For some had masters full of greed, 

Who nature's ev'ry law defaced, 

And hence 'tis well that all were freed. 



[ioo] 



LOST-IN-THE-DESERT DREAMS. 

(To ) . 

A LONE and lost, in foreign land, 

Out on a ciackling desert strand, 
I trudged where coyotes hold command, 

And fitful verdue seems. 
Athirst and lost, mind sleep can cast 
A fairy wand, to wire the vast 
Round earth through years, and flash the past 
On thought wrecked desert dreams. 

Thought- wrecked by thirst and parching feet, 
I walked and dreamed : O dream so sweet ! 
As lovers we again did meet, 

Like eighteen years ago. 
I dreamed of angel mother, too; 
On bed of roses, white and new, 
'Mid song she lay, then rose and flew 

Up, up through Heaven's glow. 

On gauze mirage my dreams did bring 
Resplendent babes on angel's wing, 
Who did in chorus sweetly sing 



[IOI] 

'Til tears obscured my sight. 
As through my tears I looked for thee, 
Our baby angels — precious three — 
All knelt in pray'r then beckoned me, 

And off to Heav'n took flight. 

Sand- whirls appeared : and you, the girl 
Whose hair at school I used to twirl. 
Around a hall with me did whirl 

To old-time music rare. 
In dreams I romped with girls and boys, 
Played long with ball and other toys, 
And laughing, playing, made more noise 

Than children now- 'days dare. 

Near lake-mirage seemed school "at books," 
From which we fled with rods and hooks, 
To foot-worn, shady, laughing brooks 

ThaUmurmer through the wild-wood, 
Where, wet as happy — though no showers — 
We crowned and wreathed you girls with flowers. 
I thus spent o'er the happiest hours 

That e'er enchanted childhood. 

Wolves howled, and I, atremble, saw 

A ghost of bloody limbs and raw, 

Whose bloody horse, foam flecked, did paw 



[102] 

On cloud of dust — it seemed. 
" 'Tis war! To arms!" the phantom cried, 
Which speech so woke my mind, and tried, 
That sand and cactus I espied — 

Of war I had but dreamed. 

Next, distant stampmill thunders ease, 
My brain. Comes on the parching breeze 
My' lover, whom I kiss and squeeze, 

She chatting low and sweet. 
'Twas you again^long lost Ruth, 
'Round whom my love since early youth, 
Like ivy twined, and will in truth, 

Though we no more e'er meet. 

Your sinless arms encircled me ; 

You sighing said, "Once wed were we — 

How long — how far — how strange — to thee 

I'll cling, no more to part." 
But part we did. I woke to know 
We had not met since years ago,* 
When death unstrung me with a blow — 

Interred with you my heart. 

I'm rescued:, yet your winning ways, 
My Ruth, of whom all talk was praise, 
Our wedded bliss and childhood days, 



E'03] 

Will be forgotten never. 
My sweetest dreams, of by-gones cast, 
Why do they flit so swiftly past ? 
I would they could appear, and last, 

And let me dream forever. 
Mojave Desert, California. 



THE ROCKIES. 

'T^HE richest marrow-bone of earth — 

And Denver was t.ie pup that saw it : 
A large pup now, she'll fat and grow, 

For she will guard this bone and gnaw it. 




[io 4 ] 




OUT WEST ADRIFT, 



T IKE sea weed, man drifts everywhere. 

Wealth-phantoms, here, we chase, our 
fruits 
Of "risk" too oft, are loads of care, 
For schemes may singe us, branch and roots : 
While ''East" in time, with toil earned store 
One dreams at ease of days of yore. 

Out here adrift, quite oft' I wonder, 
While Trade and Traffic weary sleep, 



[i?5] 

If all hearts bruised by wrong or blunder 
Blow West to wilt where sorrows weep? 
Love's anchor lost, does man drift hither 
Like logs afloat, not caring whither? 

The Turk, French, German, Jap and Swede, 
Are here — serene, or hedged with fears — 

And men of every clime and creed. 
I wonder -If their hearts pump tears 

When mem'ry wires o'er time and tide 

And dreams them back to home's fireside? 

The workless poor with talents rare, 
And pride, oft' fall tripped up by need. 

I wonder if the "vacant chair" 

At Eastern homes of blame is freed ? 

If old-time friends, content and bless'd, 

Feel pity for the poor out West ? 

I wonder if my Southern home 

Doth load the Springtime zephyrs still 

With song and fragrance while I roam? 
If summer birds with concerts thrill 

The day, then dream with wakeful lids, 

While "see-saw" sing the Katy-dids? 

The mirror sky, with stars asprinkle — 






[io6] 

Why does it not our homes reflect? 
And why do stars say naught but ' 'twinkle?' r 

And why does Echo so neglect 
The old-home fireside talks to send 
In whispers on the roving wind? 





A MINER'S LUCK. 

A YOUNG man, rich and college-bred, 

Esssayed a charming lass to wed; 
But love proved fickle and he fled 
From whence she said him "nay." 



[107] 

He reckless grew, and wealth soon squanered, 
As o'er the world he vainly wandered, 
And o'er the ills of fate much pondered 
In search of balm, let's say. 

"Flat broke" he landed in the West, 

Where watch and wardrobe he assessed 

For "grub-stake," pick and spade, and pressed 

A pittance from his "Uncle." 
With dreams of palaces and gold. 
Endured he hunger, thirst and cold, 
And kept at bay wolves fierce and bold — 

This man whose name was Dunkle. 

Up in a gulch, on mountain high, 
He dug till wan, and hard did try 
For gold : At camp would tearful sigh, 

For squandered wealth oft' wishing. 
With only bread to eat he'd fret, 
Reviewing life with sad regret; 
At length, a meal of fish to get, 

He to the brook went fishing. 

He fished, and fished, as men oft do 
Without a bite, till, weak and blue, 
He lashed his rod well to his shoe, 
And dozing off, he dreamed : 



[io8] 

He dreamed of home, fox hounds and fun, 
And balls that ran from "sun to sun," 
And maiden's smiles, and gold a ton — 
The gold his own, it seemed. 

Apaches fieree, he dreamed he saw — 

All on a raid, defying law, 

Who bound him well with thongs, to draw 

Him through the creek away. 
They dragged him in — ker-splash! how cold!- 
He woke: Had from his balance roll'd 
Pulled by a trout. His shoes showed gold 

And made him rich that day. 

He sold his placer mine that week; 
Has "fixed his uncle," now so meek, 
And never fails to nod or speak 

To poor friends when he's out. 
His first love, too, as wife he won ; 
On Trade Street now, his bank is run ; 
He has a mansion and a son, 

And coat of arms — a trout. 




[i°9] 







THE RED DEVILS. 

(It is said that in January 1886, when the following lines were 
first published, at Albuquerque, N. M., they voiced the public 
sentiment of the territory.) 

The government's Apache pets 

Are raising scalps and growing crape, 

While officers, with empty threats, 

Are wasting time with thread-bare "tape." 

They bandy words with tardy time, 

Each other's talents eulogize, 
And view "red devils" swelling crime, 

And yet our cries for help despise. 

Poor Arizona's see-saw Gov., 

(Whose milk of human kindness sours 



[no] 

When mixed with dirty Indian's love,) 
Invoke's the nations fighting powers, 

To butcher terror-stricken whites, 

And flood the land with widow's tears 

Who dare deny "red devils" rights 
To reap by force their wealth of years, 

And burn their huts, (though hut, 'tis home,) 
With virtue toy, and dance with glee 

O'er lifeless victims, as they roam 

'Neath flags that sheltered Grant and Lee. 

O where's the spirit, born of pride, 

That made Rome great and Greece her fame, 
And "Uncle Sam" to stand astride 
This continent in Freedom's name? 

Our dancing army hears the yell 

Of bloody "Reds" and sees the smoke 

Of burning huts, and runs like— well 
Says cranky Crook, "this war's a joke." 

And so it is — on Crook a joke, 

And on our soldiers; let's collect them 

Into a fort, and to them yoke 

Some squaws, to feed, admire, protect them. 



[Ill] 







SOME PUMPKINS. 

^THE sprouting "boom" in San Jose,* 

In county Santa Clara, 
Is justly growing every day, 
Because there's no land fairer. 

A "boomer" agent, large and loud, 
Somewhat, of course, excited. 

The '"tenderfeet" picked from a crowd, 
And thus his piece recited: — 



♦Pronounced, "San Hoza" — a beautiful city in California. 



[112] 

"We raise fine fruit, and grain, and wine — 

But seldom e'er a felon — 
And root-crops, stock, and every vine — 

But not the watermelon. 

"'Cause, by its growth and running speed, 

Its fruit from stem is tossed, 
Or dragged and tortured, till the breed 

Becomes worn out and lost. 

"But hardy squash and pumpkin vines 

So roam at large around, 
Their heavy fruit breaks o'er land lines, 

And crushes fences down. 

"The Legislature said it feared 

That fencing ne'er would do, 
And made a law that all should herd 

Their stock, and pumpkins too. 

"What we require is growing space, 

And plenty storage room; 
Our crops invade our neighbor's place — 

And that's what hurts our "boom." 

"If squash and pumpkin vines would climb, 
And load our mammoth trees — 



["3] 

But no, alas! a quake sometime 
Would choke both land and seas. 

"Our ripening root-crops, large in girth, 

Which bring us in the shiners, 
So crowd and torture lab' ring earth, 

She quakes the Carolinas." 

"And yet," says Cheek, "we feel consoled, 

For if there comes no boom, 
We'll feast, be merry, lay up gold — 

And give our pumpkins room. 




[»4] 




" - I inn \ -'r 







A MOUNTAIN HERMIT, 

— OR — 

AS MANY DO. 



A MINER'S tools on mountain high, 
I^ay wrapt in rust. In camp near by, 

Where wolves awaited him to die, 
The miner's life ebbed low. 

'Twas on ihe Rockies, lonely, bare; 

No friend, wife, child or mother there 

To soothe, or guard from wolves that dare 
Worst danger when there's snow. 

Alone, forlorn, he in his tent 

I^ay 'neath snow-clouds which trouble meant, 

While fever to his mem'ry lent 



[H5] 

Swift wings to bring the Past. 
Came merry boyhood; courtship's bower; 
Then Wedded wealth; and then a flower 
From babyhood : the cursed hour 

Then came of wreck and blast. 

"But Iyord," he said, "forgive their part 
In my destruction ! Oh ! I start — 
The stone is rolling from my heart — 

Waits o'er me — is't a dove? 
In wealth and fame I placed my trust, 
Which, like my tools there, soon did rust: 
Man's life's a. curse, who sowed in lust 

For wealth, ignoring love." 

"That cursed hour;" he gasped. Fast fell 
The driving snow; from ev'ry dell 
Wolves came, whose greed would snatch from 
H— 1 

Imps who o'er Styx were ferried. 
He held a picture, grimed, so old; 
He thought no more of digging gold, 
But dying there, with life untold, 

By nature thus was buried: — 

Another miner's well charged blast 
Above, shook rocks and peaks and cast, 



[n6] 

Of snow which ages had amassed, 

An avalanche that grew, 
And spadeless, and with prayers unsaid, 
Well buried him the friendless dead, 
Who, wrecked by Fate, had Westward fled, 

And died — as many do. 



A TEXAS MAYOR. 

T^THKN young, a cowboy, friendly brave; 

Now Mayor, older, braver still, 
He cast his vote "For Water Works" — 
This Texas Mayor, "Uncle Bill." 

>K * * * * * * 

Great crowds stand near a burning block , 
As flame darts up and roars and smokes, 

And sneering say; "those water bonds 
For twenty years will bleed our folks: 

"Though wealth's consumed, no water flows; 

The Water works — oh, where are they ? 
Where's Uncle Billy and the bonds? 

Trot out your sea of water, pray !" 



E»7] 

¥fc ¥fS ¥fc 7$ 7p ^v Trfc 

The morning's come, the fires are out, 
For want of something else to burn, 

"Proceed to test the water works," 
Says Uncle Bill, "your folly learn." 

The engine pants, and madly strains; 

The water skyward flies in streams: 
So near his lofty perch it goes, 

The courthouse eagle nearly screams. 

"Hurrah! Hurrah !" fills all the air; 

"As Mayor, 'Uncle Billy's' great." 
"Hurrah !" says he; "taxpayers, come, 

And voters all, let's irrigate." 

Adjourning to the nearest bar, 

They "wet their whistles" o'er and o'er, 
Till noise the vault of heaven did mar, 

When Uncle Billy took the floor. 

Says he, "My boys,, whoop ye! hurrah ! 

Our wisdom now begins to tell; 
We'll bathe the stars, the Devil drown — 

Whoop ye! you bet, we'll put out H-ll!" 



[i 18] 




KANSAS' FAIREST FLOWER. 

QUT Westward, toward the "Golden State," 
This morning's train bore precious freight: 

A flower of human form divine, 
Of brilliant thought, and beauty rare, 

With heart courageous, large, and — mine, 
'Twas precious freight that train did bear. 

The famed, e'er blooming Golden Coast, 
By nature wrought, o'er art to boast, 

Fruit-painted — this eye-dazzling land 
Of beauty, climate, wealth and power, 

With its beflowered, fairy hand 
Has plucked poor Kansas' choicest flower. 



["9] 

Now wearied winds are feebly sighing, 
And nature seems all dead or dying, 

While Kansas seems depopulated, 
And tenantless — no doubt for rent — 

Since by my love it was vacated, 
Since she to California went. 

The merry stars pursue her route; 

The "man in moon" looks sour as kraut; 

The sad sun sobs in cloudy bed, 
The nights weep frost: no wild wind's stir 

Can wake the flowers that are dead — 
That grieved to death for loss of her. 

But there the flowers bloom, rejoice, 
To hear her sweet, melodious voice, 

Out in the Golden State so jolly, 
Where breezes warm and flower-scented, 

Blow off ones blue old melancholly, 
And leave mankind serene, contented. 

"The saddest words of tongue or pen," 

'Tis said are these: "It might have been;" 

But ne'er to me were words so sad; 
Ne'er words pierced heart, or dampened eye, 

As these, her parting words, I had; 
Her last, "My darling now good-bye." 



[120] 

To her I sobbed, '"Good-bye my dear! 
In spirit I'll be always near. 

Please when you walk the Golden Shores; 
When there yon read a sweet love story; 

When moaning ocean sighs and roars, 
K'er think of Kansas and your Orie. 









CUPID IN AN ORANGE GROVE. 

T^TITH all the chords of love in tune, 

Beneath an orange shade in June, 
Two happy souls hold sweet commune 

In which two hearts are freighted. 
The ocean breeze does music bring, 



[121] 

And fragrance on its balmy wing, 
While joyous birds with rapture sing 
To see such true loves mated. 

These lovers toy with pretty flowers, 

Just plucked from aromatic bowers, 
And whisper love as glide the hours, 

Brimful of purest bliss. 
A trembling hand steals round her waist; 
She chides not, hence 'tis not displaced. 
Encouraged thus, he plucks in haste 

A rosy, red-hot kiss. 

With eyes cast down, and cheeks afire, 
They, while their souls in bliss float higher, 
Hear not the birds on bush and briar, 

That louder sing their part. 
O'ercome with joy, she leans to brace 
Her nervous form with lovely grace, 
Against his arm ; then, through his face 

She tries to read his heart. 

Ere drawing closer to his breast, 
She asks herself: "O, is it best 
To take for granted love confessed 

Amid such rapturous scenes? 
But human, he? Can he mislead? 



[122] 

Deceive first love — my heart make bleed? 
Toward me life-dark' ning clouds give speed? 
To me, but in my "teens?" 

"Ah, No ! to honor much too true; 

And then our love is not so new, 

Though just confessed." They closer grew, 

And to himself he thought : 
"At last, O bliss! Hope make me bold: 
Tongue, falter not; and heart unfold 
Thy long-kept love: — though pure as gold, 
With gold could not be bought." 

As from her rev'rie she awoke, 

Her lover softly silence broke, 
So noble looking as he spoke, 

And this is what he said : 
"My Angel, now, since joy is rife, 
Consent to light my path of life 
With happiness: — O, be my wife — 

Decide my fate — let's wed." 

' 'As flowers fade, plucked from the tree, 
If kept apart, so too will we; 
So let's be wise and now agree 

To wed and make life certain." 
She cast on his her tear-damp eyes, 
And said, as they spoke love's replies, 
"I love with love that never dies" — 

But here let's drop the curtain. 
Riverside, California. 



[123] 



/// III/ !'!/, 









>0- 



THE POEM VANISHED. 

TN crowded hall a beauty shone, 

Well dazzling men with sheen : 

The women sneered, "A butterfly;" 

The men said, "Summer Queen." 

As in a wilderness the owl 

Half blind-like views the sun, 

I quite forgot all worldly matters ; 
Forgot my work undone, 



[>4] 

And helpless, impolitely gazed 

At each enchanting smile, 
As by mesmeric power charmed, 

And thus did time beguile. 

My eyes soon blurred, still feasting, 

Like bears from food long banished, 
Until a cheeky dude stepped in, 
And with the poem vanished. 




CRAZED BY GOOD LUCK. 

TDROUD Smith was soon to wed a belle, 
But she with Witless Coachman fled. 
Poor Smith from lofty reason fell; 
'Twere better, far, if he were dead. 

Alas ! that human trash on deck — 
A charming cast of heartless clay — 

A good seaworthy life can wreck, 

When luck'ly blown, like chaff away. 



[125] 



LOVE'S APPEAL TO FATE. 

TDRAY tell, thou destiny diviner, 
When shall I meet my darling Mina? 
Though e'er so long since last we met, 
Her eyes and voice so haunt me yet, 
That food and sleep I quite forget : 

When shall we meet, if ever? 

When 'neath her smiles I bask in bliss; 

Apart the joys of life I miss, 

And days seem long as years. I vow 
She's good and charming, knowing how 
To wreathe with gladsome smiles my brow, 

So bring us soon together. 



I long for her, and thinking, dream: 
To flowery grove on tropic stream 

We glide, where birds of plumage bright, 
And golden fish, without affright, 
Warble and sport for our delight, 
While sunbeam sprites doth play. 



To see her smile the waters dance, 
And sparkle 'neath her beaming glance, 
As, on the living bank of green, 
I, from my sweet, my fairy Queen, 



[126] 

Lip-nectar sip. We thus unseen, 
Should dream our lives away. 

Her witching eyes invade my soul, 
And bribe my heart from my control. 

I kiss her cheek which thrills me through, 
And wakes my slumb'ring heart anew, 
To life too real, joys too true, 
And sweet in dreams to last. 

Then bid me see those sparkling eyes, 
And hear those lips give sweet replies; 
And since she stole my heart from me, 
That she be pris'ner, Fate decree, 
And let me have Iyove's golden key, 
To lock the Union fast. 

Yes, make us One: cement with health, 
And love and wisdom; bring us wealth, 

And guide aright that seeds of woe, 

The hand of Time shall never sow 

Along our way, as on we go 

Afloat with joys through life. 



[I2 7 ] 

WITCHING EYES. 

( To a Coquette. ) 

TT7ITHDRAW those dreamy, witching eyes, 

That grasp my very soul. 
Bribe not my heart with transient smiles, 
Take all or leave me whole. 

Unhinge or turn those fickle smiles, 

And hush those pleading eyes, 
Which, charged with charms, may just as well 

Some other heart capsize. 

That flash of love put out; shut off 

The Jack' O' lantern light, 
Else I'm bewitched, misled and lost, 

Deep mired in love to-night. 

To swamp and bogs I fear * twill light me, 
On love's most treach'rous route, 

And then with mocking -laughter leave me, 
Or, sporting flicker out. 

Yes, break the soul-enchanting spell, 
Ere time sounds Truth's alarms. 

Why wake my hopes, derange my thoughts, 
And shoot rav heart with charms? 



[128] 

Why capture game to cast away? 

Why seek my life to tether? 
Unhook my eye-bound heart from thine, 

Or melt our souls together. 

And far remove those lips my dear, 

For they with eyes conspire 
To menace much my heart and soul, 

And set my lips on fire. 

When first I met your magic eyes, 

In parlor's glaring light, 
They ' 'held me up' ' with charms to rob, 

And stole my heart outright. 

In dreams they've haunted me, alas ! 

E'er since when first I found you. 
So be it on, if you'll but let 

Me wrap my love around you. 

Then eyes, give back my heart you stole, 

Before my reason misses; 
Or, lest my lips the thief expose, 

Pray seal them up with kisses. 




[I2 9 ] 

ONE SWEET KISS, LOVE. 

(To Cava.) 

A/TY dear, whene'er I have you near, 

I'm happy and delighted. 
When absent, oft' I shed a tear, 
And feel that hope is blighted. 

I'm with emotion so confused, 
When by my side I've found you, 

I trembling wish — I'm so enthused — 
To put my arms around you. 

I view your pouting, pretty lips — 
Could gaze on them for hours — 

And wonder why the wise bee sips 
His honey from the flowers. 

Were I bee, I'd leave such blisses 
As hang on pink and daisy, 

And fly to you and feast on kisses 
Till joy had run me crazy. 

Those dainty lips^were made to kiss; 

Should they and mine commingle, 
Magnetic currents charged with bliss 

All through our souls would jingle. 



Then one sweet kiss, love, ere we part — 

Or may I steal it, pray? 
You woke and stole my slumb'ring heart— 

I'll steal a kiss for pay. 

And if you pout, or angry feel, 

(I'm just, whate'er betides;) 
I'll give you back the kiss I steal, 

And twenty more besides. 

.3B — (*> — ^E 

I'LIv WANDER BACK TO DIXIE. 

'TTVHE world I'll search over with patience 

of mind, 
Till a woman who loves to be loved I shall 

find. 
I will change like the wind, and will speed 

like the dove, 
Till I find a long pent-up volcano of love. 

On Memory's pyre of sorrow I will light 
Love's embers, to burn it* two hearts will 

ignite, 
And weld into one, with hot love and caresses, 



[i3i] 

Forgetful of life and of life's dark distresses. 

Absorbing the while life's elixir, Love's fires 
I'll ever keep kindled, till Sorrow expires, 
Forgotten of bliss, pure and holy as Sweet — 
Then Heart-cleansed, life's burdens I'll cheer- 
fully greet. 

No icebounded regions up North will I roam, 
For no woman in marble or pants charms a 

home ; 
Though handsome, too chilly to fondle or wive, 
Or else, much too masculine for Queen of the 

hive. 

But down to the heart of proud Dixie's gay 

bower 
I'll wander, and pluck for my bosom a flower, 
As sweet and as spotless as Jasmine in June, 
Responsive and soit as guitar when in tune. 

I will fondle it gently, heart-easing, divine, 
And feast on its beauty; its sweetness confine 
To my heart, where I'll plant it, and water 

with love, 
O'er watch and caress it, till white- winged 

above. 
Denver, Colo. 



[132] 

A TALE OF THE COMET. 

'"p WO lovers sat, the comet viewing. 

Rogue Cupid said, "turn out the light 
That you can see;" then went to brewing 
Intoxicating love with fright. 

Her lover said : "It plows the skies ! 

Such friction — smoke-now Time is stopped — 
Ker-smash— a World! 'Gainst Earth it flies!" 

He.paused; she on his bosom flopped. 

"All's lost!" he said. "To meet the crash, 
L,et's hold this sweet embrace, and wait; 

And waiting kiss till Earth's asmash, 
And trust ourselves to love and Fate." 
* * * # * #...'* 

As morn's approach unlocked their arms — 

But not their hearts, by love well blended — 
Said she, "My stars! What sweet alarms! 
Fate's good to trust — when love attended!" 

The lovers now are hap'ly wed: 

The crazy comet good hath done, 
For if it had not scared, 'tis said, 
This conquest Cupid ne'er had won. 



[i33] 



CALL AGAIN. 

My absence, when you called to-day, 
I much regret; for such a ray 

Of sunshine as your presence brings 
Should not have wasted in the gloom 

Which your long absence Dear hath wrought 
Within my restive, ray less room. 

"It might have been'' is but a thief 
Of joy; missed pleasures add to grief. 

A spring within the desert flows, 
And yet the thirsty find it not: 

Though "balm in Gilead" ever grows, 
Sore hearts die on, and are forgot. 

So call again, and when I'm in; 

Let pleasure be — not, "might have been;" 

We'll find and drain the joyful spring, 
And then the flow of love renew — 

When balm of life — love's sweets — you bring, 
Which none can bring but you — but you. 



i*34] 

FLOWERS. 

TXOW precious these! see, I caress them, 

And to my weary heart close-press them; 
But though, as balm, they ease my heart, 
My mem'ry pale they wake and start, 
To sack the past for bliss entoomed, 
And stir, up fading joys, that bloomed 
Kre flowered graves beteared my home, 
And led me o'er the world to roam. 

A wand'rer, thus, on mem'rys wing, 
To scenes of early life may swing; 
Those happy scenes which ne'er revealed 
The hand of Fate, that time concealed, 
To rob him of his dearest own, 
To gather harvests he had sown; 
To cause his loves and. him to sever, 
To meet no more on earth, forever. 

On dream-wings oft' my spirit flies, 
And wanders, restless, through the skies, 
In search of loved ones, good, and true, 
Who years ago to Heaven- ward flew. 
Then back through space it swiftly sweeps, 
To where my fretful body sleeps, 
And chiding says: "Why sad the hours, 
Since Love and Beauty send us flowers?" 



['35] 

So off, sad thoughts ! Still flowers bloom: 
Joys yet may come to scatter gloom; 
New loves and hopes may spring — and yet, 
The lost — alas ! I'll ne'er forget: — 
The loved and lost, the flowers faded, 
The babbling brooks we children waded, 
The butterflies we gaily chased — 
Can ne'er from mem'ry be effaced. 



DARLING. 



TyiTHOUT a Darling what is life, 

Except a joyless desert dream? 
Unless a darling, what's a wife, 

But ballast tugged up life's queer stream? 

As of the happy past they prate, 

The widower and widow see. 
That home's no home without a mate, 
I'm sure these relicts will agree. 

Then call your husband Darling often, 
To rest him of his business strife. 

Grim sorrow's stony bed 'twill soften, 
And blunt or break the thorns of life. 



[136] 

And call him Darling year by year, 
And his true Darling always be, 

That happy hearts your boat shall steer 
O'er life's eventful, surging sea. 

And if he's not a brute, he'll live 

For thee alone, forever true; 
He, heart and all, to thee will give, 

And every day his love renew. 

As '*One," two hearts then down life's stream 

Will glide along, with side by side, 
And loving, toiling, taste and dream 
Of joys, though high or low the tide. 



AN OFFERING. 

T}OR thy hand I am ripe, am of specks 

nearly free; 
As fruit on a limb, I am bent o'er to thee. 
Shall I dry on the stem, or fall as a peach? 
O, pluck if thou wilt, dear, no other can reach. 



/F^* ~7F^ /rf^ ~/F^ 



[i37] 




LADY FRIENDS AND FLOWERS. 



To 



>HpHESE rare, sweet southern Jasmine flowers, 

From early morn till evening's shade, 
Lend thought to dull and lonely hours; 
'Tis sad to think they soon must fade. 

They'll fade like those that I, in childhood, 
With romping, laughing playmates culled 

From gardens rare, and from the wild wood, 
Long ere my heart by woe was dulled; 

Ere cruel Fate most drove me mad 

With pallid cheeks and pulseless forms 



[138] 

Of those whose laughter made me glad, 

Whose smiles subdued life's roughest storms. 

O, could I be again a boy ! 

B'en then when tired on mother's knee, 
She off showed sadness with her joy, 

And now methinks she this did see: — 

Did see my future life unfold, 
With all its woe and tearful showers, 

And then my smiles and joy untold, 

When lady friends had sent me flowers. 



p NINA. 

T IFE'S summer is closing, L,ove's Autumn 
leaves shedding, 
And drifting, so listless, toward Memory's 
sea, 
Excepting the evergreen Bay-leaf, my Nina, 
Whom Love will keep fadeless through 
winter for me. 



[ J 39] 



RING FAREWELL. 

(Two lovers exchanged rings. Later, she substituted a prettier 
one for that she had given, and the following lines were forwarded 
to her with the ring returned.) 

Dear Ring, farewell ! you precious treasure ! 

Not precious though for being gold: 
Your value I could never measure 

By what you'd bring if you were sold, 

But by the love of her who wore you: 

Whose soul and mine were softly blended, 

As silence to our secrets swore you, 
And on our springtime joys attended. 

You from the dainty hand you graced 

Were plucked — 'twas where sweet flowers 
grow — 

And by my lover true were placed 
On my plain hand her love to show. 

If walls have ears, then why not rings? 

If oft I've squeezed and smothered thee, 
While pure bliss flowed from love's young 

springs, 
'Twas that you might not hear or see. 



[i 4 o] 

Pray grant me pardon, ere you go, 

For all my slights and wrongs to you. 
Your mistress, ah! eclipsed, you know, 
The world: the slights I never knew. 

Alas, adieu, for we must part! 

Now speed thee, my messenger, fly 
To her whose absence grieves my heart; 

We'll meet again "when clouds roll by." 

Yes, haste away and truly tell her 
How much my heart does for her yearn, 
While forest leaves. are turning yellow, 

And wintry winds cause fires to burn. 

Kmbrace her finger night and day: 
Wipe from her eye each tear you see; 

Her sadness always chase away, 
By oft' reminding her of me. 

And tell her how my midnight dreams 
Do cause the bitter tears to trickle 

Adown my pillow, when it seems 
That she to me is false ana fickle. 

How when my dreams recount our past, 
Filled up to brim with purest bliss, 



[Hi] 

The brightest smiles play thick and fast 
All o'er the cheeks she used to kiss. 

Alas! my heart can ne'er contain 

This swelling, grievous, lonesome woe: 

My eyes, once sparkling gay, must fain 
Bear off the gloomy overflow. 

The grief her absence now doth cause, 
No living soul hath power to tell. 

The force of nature's choicest laws 

Grieves me to say, "dear ring farewell ! 



>o< 



TAKE THIS HEART AND KEEP IT. 

( To Jessica) 

T^EAR, take it now, and e'er endure 

In your sweet balmy breast, 
This aching heart, and, there secure, 
I,et it be ever blessed. 

And in return the vacant place 

Once occupied by mine, 
Pray do through life with your heart grace- 

The heart that once was thine. 



[142] 

Then may our love remain as true 

As now to me it seems, 
That we may hap'ly glide all through 

This life of flitting dreams. 

May we be blessed with joy and peace, 
And health, and e'er agree; 

And may our bank account increase 
As pour we charity. 

And may we, when we bid adieu 
This world, so old and vain, 

Ascend "on high," and life renew, 
And with good angels reign. 

MARY SINGLE. 

/^\H! what a thrill this name doth send 

All through my dizzy brain; 
By it I swear bad ways to mend, 
From evil to abstain. 

What's in a name? I do adore 
Herself, I must confess, 



LH3] 

But wish that Single was no more 
A part of her address; 

And that my own quite soon shall be 

For her a life-long name, 
Then we'll be happy and agree, 

In want, or wealth and fame. 



THE ENGAGEMENT RING. 

^HIS ring to you I freely give; 

And though its worth is small, 
By taking it you vow to live 
With me in hut or hall. 

In hall or hut though we may stay, 

Though rich or poor our food, 
We'll love, though toil shall mark our way, 

And strive to e'er be good. 

In giving it, I promise all: 

Yes, all a true heart could; 
I'll live for you, I'd for you fall, 

If only for your good. 



[H4] 

By taking it you do agree 

That like the ivy vine, 
You'll leave all else and cling to me; 

Round me your love will twine. 

'If on these terms you wish it, take; 

And on your finger keep, 
And pray that we'll our vows ne'er break, 
Or into wrong e'er creep. 

But do not make this sacred tie, 

Unless you freely give 
Your heart, your all; I'd rather die, 

Or — rather from you live. 




[i45] 




A WISH. 

(To Em?na.) 

"V/fAY Cupid's cunning not beguile, 

By recommending those 
Who dissipate — though small or great — 
Though wearing finest clothes. 

For he who often tips the glass, 
Or gambles, wading deep in sin, 

Whose nose is red, who'll soon be dead — 
Oh! may you shun such men. 

But may you love a man of worth; 
Who's sober, honest, smart; 



[146] 

Whose heart is pure, who can endure 
All of a true man's part. 

And may you wed the one you love, 

Regarding me as friend; 
And living long, fore'er grow strong, 

In virtues to the end. 



TO FLO. 

A STORM is raging now, without; 

The thunders roll, the lightnings flash,. 
The cold rain pours all out of doors, 
And pelting hail beats on the sash; 

While many sorrow freighted crafts 
Out on the sea of life doth surge; 

And many forms of human storms 
IyUll only for the fun'ral dirge. 

Dear, you perhaps are wrapt in sleep, 
And smiles; in midst of thrilling dream 

Of ' 'tallow lamp" at summer camp, 
Out on that well-remembered stream; 



[147] 

While I sit thinking of the past, 
Of all its sweet and bitter times; 

Its fruit plucked green, and thorns unseen: 
But I must close these tearful rhymes. 

Oh! may we miss the storms of life; 

And may our paths be gay and bright, 
With flowers fair, and music rare 

In summer breezes — Dear, Good-Night. 

IN MARY'S ALBUM. 

This album oft' will ope' and close, 
Revealing names of scores of those 
Beloved, through Nature's choicest laws, 
Who, ever near, no heartaches cause. 

Not always so. The scroll of time 
May soon show some in distant clime, 
While many more Death's ceaseless wave 
Will sweep into the cruel grave. 

Should storms of life, and woe and care 

Beset you, dear, be firm and dare 
Do right; by others though forsaken, 
From you my heart can ne'er be shaken. 



[148] 



A BIRTHDAY WISH. 

[To Maud.) 

May all your birthdays happy be, 

And all the days between. 
May you from grief be ever free, 

And e'er of joys be queen. 

May health be yours, and peace of mind; 

May plenty bless your life; 
May none but one who's true and kind 

E'er husband you for wife. 

My smiles of friends — you'll have ho foe — 

Bring joys of fullest measure. 
May chords of love, ne'er touched by woe, 

Delight your life with pleasure. 

And may you ride, while all applaud, 
Fame's tide on wave of glory; 

And may you ne'er forget me, Maud — 
Your friend, Sincerely, Orie. 




[i49] 




SHE IS GOOD. 

TITER education? Rare. But 'tis eclipsed, 

For learning's star retires, unseen of men, 

When goodness as a cloudless sun doth shine 

To strengthen virtues here, while blighting 

sin. 



She pretty? Not with silks and painted face; 

But short and large for many years she stood 
At the helm of Goodness, with hallowed grace; 

You'd think her pretty, sir, because so good. 



[i5o] 

She loves me? Yes. Afar o'er lands and streams, 
From South to North — from whence warm 
zephyrs blow 
So fragrant, soft, she sends and feeds my 
dreams 
Withflow'rs, sir, plucked where sweet mag- 
nolias grow. 

I love her? Yes. With winsome, holy grace 
She won my heart, and is to me a mother. 

I hug her? Yes. Too large for one embrace, 
The one side hugged, I move and hug the 
other. 

OUR SOCIAL CLUB. 

/~^UR social club presents a road 
• " Which leads us on to wealth and pleas- 
ure; 
A wealth of thought, by -ontact brought 
From many minds exchanging treasure. 

No chronic kickers are admitted; 

Should sadness come, 'twill off be chased 
•By mirth, or treats of mental sweets, 
.„ /On wholesome modest friendship based. 



['SO 

We're not a set of love-sick youth; 

And yet in range of Cupid's bow; 
And we may stray to Love's boquet, 

And may in pairs to Wedlock go. 




THE OLD HORSE SHIED. 

'"pHE old horse shied, 
And though I tried 
To grab the reins to steer, 



[152] 

The wheels did threat 

To soon upset, 

And filled poor Sue with fear, 

L,est we'd be spilled 

And maybe killed; 

So, bravely to prevent, 
With arms, in haste, 
She clasped my waist, 

And on my bosom leant. 

As I'm not wood, 
I felt quite good, 

And fears all dissipated 
By hugging tight, 
Till Iyove, the sprite, 

Our souls with joy inflated. 
Thence on, the nag 
Did graze and swag 

At will, and — Sue's a bride, 
For since that day 
She's mine for aye — 

Because the old horse shied. 



(e>. 




[153] 




WIFE. 

MAN loves her for his soul's relief, 

And most when sorrow darkens life. 
He glides to joy from dread and grief 
On sunny smiles of "Darling wife." 

With thoughts of her his toil is light; 

His love of her enchants his dream. 
Bereft of her, grief storms of blight 

Would wreck his bark on life's queer stream. 

The roof's forgot when skies are clear, 

And smiles go waste when pleasures roam. 
But when the heart suggests a tear, 
Man longs at once for wife and home. 




[154] 



HOME-WRECKS. 

^HE smoothest voyage had on earth, 
Across life's rough and fateful sea, 
Is made by him around whose hearth 
His good true wife and he agree. 

Of all the storms of life, the worst 
To o'erthrow homes and wreck begin, 

Is by a life-mate brewed and nursed 
In lustful mind and arms of sin. 

Though long we search life's ceaseless flow 
Of sin and crime, and all that's mean; 

Though Fate's wild storms sad scenes doth 
show, 
This home-wreck shows the saddest scene. 




[155] 




GO! SIN NO MORE. 



PASSION. 

"Go sin no more?" What words are these? 

And Reason, what do they portend? 
Am I adrift on magic seas 

Of Love? And have I cause to mend? 

REASON. 

Alas! dear Passion — yes, there's cause 
To turn and quit your perilous way 

O'er social rights and sacred laws, 

Lest you be wrecked some summer's day. 



[156] 

Down pleasure's mountain road you go, 
Unmindful of your course, or brake, 

E'er drinking nature's muddy flow 
Of sinful joys for pleasure's sake. 

Or, off you soar on wings of bliss — 
But soon or late must make descent, 

And fall to drown in sins abyss, 
Or crash on retribution's flint. 

Your heart, I know, quite blind to fears, 
Though Death bade it from I,ove to sever, 

Would laugh away intruding tears, 
And feast on stolen sweets forever. 

But sober up, and stop love's chase, 
Ere rapture further lame and blind you: 

Your wayward steps at once retrace, 
Ere Pardon's bridges burn behind you. 



HOW TO RULE. 

A WOMAN ruled against her will, 

Becomes the Devil's worry-mill. 
She grinds out frowns, or scolds, or sighs, 
With fainting spells, then wins with crys. 



[157] 

Against his will you rule a man, 

And time you'll find is but a span 

To lurid Hades roaring hot, 

And then you'll find you've ruled him not. 

Break woman's will with love, and you 
Can lead, not drive, the veriest shrew. 
Feed man with rlatt'ry wisely, well, 
And him you'll lead to Heaven or H — 1. 







A TALE OF TWO DUDES. 



(In the spring and early summer, at Colton, California, dust 
and sand storms often appeal, and blow furiously. Without 
them Colton climatically, would be a Paradise on Earth.) 

'HpHAT rude old reprobate, the Wind, 

Sighs, laughs, and weeps like men, and trifles 



[158] 

With all — who have and have not sinned — 
And blinds with unclean dust and stifles, 
Oft' lending idlers passion views 
Of too much hose o'er ladies' shoes. 

Yet, sometimes he's the maiden's friend 
K'en in his roughest, playful moods. 

I'll tell you how this blackguard, Wind, 
Once served two ill-bred, idling Dudes, 

Who stared with passion's vulgar eye, 

And slandered ladies passing by. 

As through the dust, along the walk, 

Two bad girls went — 'tis much deplored- 

With frisking, giggling, low-bred talk, 
He blew their skirts awry, and roared 

With glee — in gayest sort of moods — 

Kxposiug gaudy hose to dudes. 

"The naughty thing!" you say, I'm sure, 
And I. Then on the windy street — 

An angel? No! But just as pure : : — 
A fairy? No! But just as sweet: — 

Modest and shy, she tripping came. 

This maiden, pure in thought and fame. 

She saw the dudes and heard the wind, 
And blushed — then paled with sore affright- 



[159] 

To think, "Oh! should they see"— they 
grinned, 
And looked, in vain, with all their might 
For dainty ankles — almost cried, 
For angry dust their sight defied. 

K'en Wind loves purity; and so, 

Did blind their eyes with dust that pained, 
And screened from view the holy show; 

The vulgar eyes were thus restained 
Of Dudes who souls would sacrifice, 

To peep key-holes of Paradise. 

The Dudes stared on; the Wind, quite sad, 
Soon wept a rain which laid the dust: — 

The dudes now saw: but Wind got mad, 
And swore to end their days of rust, 

And winked a flash of lightning under 

Their eyes, and knocked them both "to 
thunder." 



Jin mk ■■■■ 



[i6o] 







- JEALOUSY. 

AH! Life's a fruitless, tiresome duty , 

Though joys like birds about us hover 
And all around are wealth and beauty, 
Without a fond true wife or lover. 

Yet love grows cold, and heart convulsing, 
When jealous- watched without good reason; 

Emotions of the soul repulsing, 

And sprouting wings of moral treason. 

As birds sing sweeter, happier are, 

When free of wing with all bird-kind, 

So love is sweeter, truer far, 

Not caged by Jealousy that's blind. 

The dove-bird flits through shadows too, 
And oft' alights on soiling clay; 



[i6i] 

But night fall hears its cuddling coo 

In unwronged nest, where love holds sway. 

The bird long caged, though warmed and fed, 
Once free, will ne'er return, be sure. 

So's human life; there is, 'tis said, 
For jealous-poisoned love no cure. 

Then leave Love joyous free, though spry; 

Jealousies forge no chains to hold; 
Love fettered will to strange loves fly, 

Escaping chains and loveless gold. 



\ 



v©@/ 



ICE-CONSTANCY. 

{To ) 

T7DU say I lack of constancy; 

t "To-day ablaze with love, and nice, 
All smiling, cooing, bold and free, 
To-morrow turned again to ice." 

'Twas on a pleasure's summer day 
We met; your sunny eyes, my Dove, 

Soon melted all my fears away, 

And blossomed out my heart with love. 



[i6a] 

We met again; your change of heart 
Had chilled those smiling eyes to stone, 

On which was written ' 'we must part" — 
Because your roving heart had flown. 

True love I've offered, and again: 
You coldly nipped it down, together 

With love renewed. Capricious, vain, 

You thaw and freeze, like ice and weather. 

*vt* vL» %JL+ vL- vjv vL* 

*T» «T* *^ *T* *T* ^* 

Those who are heartless, cold as snow, 
Can play the role of ice for greed. 

If man you'd catch — Poor man! — go slow, 
And give these hints of ice due heed: — 

When beaux grow cold, o'erflow the cup 
With melting warmth of love — be bold. 

When love perspires with heat, sour up — 
To win, like summer drinks be cold. 

Then when you wed — the man I pity ! 

You'll chill his life with gloom and woe; 
And though you live in woods or city, 

His freezing heart you'll thaw with snow. 



** 



[i63] 

LOVE THAT'S WEIGHED AND MEAS- 
URED. 

'HpIS false love which causeless suspects, 

Misuses true love, or neglects. 
I've such contempt for — off I'd shove 
All sleety, foggy, false-face love, 
That's only shown in crowds, like fashions; 
That's coldly issued out, like rations, 
And weighed in scales and cut like ice; 
That gathers joys for self's big slice; 
That's coldly watchful, peeping, sly, 
In search of faults to weep Love's eye: 
That picks to pieces Love, aside, 
To see if 'tis "all wool and wide;" 
That floats coarse witdown Love's pale cheeks, 
On bitter, tearful, heart-sprung creeks; 
That flickers dim at home, and harms, 
But seeks and lights forbidden charms; 
That traces Love's first "wild-oats" sowed, 
And if, perchance, they're ripe and mowed, 
Rough-shocks them by the fireside, warm, 
While scornful finger points a storm; 
That starves its ill-got love each day, 
And robs for more with foulest play, 
Then sneering sees poor starved Love weep — 



[i6 4 ] 

No loving arms to round her creep, 
While kisses ripe, on lips unused, 
Must fade away — I^ove's so abused! 

This book-kept love, that counts and weighs, 
Would hound love's tracks through summer 

days, 
Scare butterflies of joy that wing 
I^ove's path, and hush the birds that sing, 
While Pleasure flees to gloomy shade, 
And flowers of spring unplucked must fade. 



FATE. 

uTTfTB all are architects, be sure, 

Of our own fortunes, ' ' say the schools, 
And fortune's pets from harm secure, 
Who know exceptions tramp on rules. 

Exceptions let me here relate, 

Of fame and love, and men's finances. 

The work of ' 'Folly?" Say, "by Fate 
We're creatures all of circumstances." 



[x65] 

Fate oft' makes man insane or drunk; 

Makes royal pride bend low its knees; 
Makes strong ships be by tempests sunk, 

While weak ones glide o'er stormless seas. 

A once-proud ship that sailed the deep, 
And often weathered storms most wild, 

At last, in spicy breeze asleep, 

By Fate is wrecked— 'gainst rocks beguiled. 

A man of nerve, in nowise weak, 

With mountain piles of terraced fame, 

Floats on till Fate, ah! springs a leak, 
And sinks him 'neath his load of name. 

The rarest blooms house stinging bees, 
And sweetest creatures carry gall: 

The greatest dogs are bit by fleas, 

And grandest structures sometimes fall. 

The pompous banker of to-day, 

By next day's change of luck and wealth 

Is warned, ''by rifled bank don't stay, 
But skip to Canada for health." 

A fascinating, guileful snake 

Has charmed, and captured, and destroyed 



[166] 

The rarest birds of uatures make; 
And so, to rain, are men decoyed. 

For Fate makes nets, with which to snare 
Them who in goodness "watch and pray;" 

Feeds hypocrites on royal fare, 

And paves, with gold, their slimy way. 

Fate thorns life's path on virtue's way, 

And drags through mire an honored name; 

Wings names of frauds in open day, 
To highest pinnacles of fame. 

Capricious Fate will often frown 

Upon a life for little cause, 
And pull and keep a good man down, 

In spite of sober reason's laws. 

A word awry, a thoughtless deed, 

Or marriage vain, may blast life's core, 

Wreck cherished homes, crush hearts that bleed, 
And love-drifts drive to bleakest shore. 

Whoe'er incurs Fate's awful wrath, 

Though small or great, good, rich or poor, 

Must cut through hard-luck's flint a path, 
Or fall to earth to rise no more. 



[i 67] 

But he whose courage never cools, 

Who nobly wills to do or die, 
Who ne'er gives up, but sticks to rules, 

And failing oft', again will try, 

Ere long by Fate will be embraced, 
And led to wealth or royal station, 

•Or love, or fame; no longer chased 
By Fate's blood-hounds of ruination. 

Then none should toy with fickle Fate, 
Lest tireless courage soon forsake you: 

And none should enter Folly's gate, 

Where luck may break, as soon as make you, 

Nor should you charge to Fate the wrong 
And ills you breed when mad or jolly, 

For they more properly belong 

To that which sober men call "Folly." 




[i68] 




WRY POLICE AND LAW'S DELAYS. 

Y^S, wry police and Law's delays 

Encourage crime, make Justice weep, 
Make earth a sheol, all ablaze 

With riot, wrong, plots foul and deep. 

For Justice, Law's a ready sword 

When wielded well by Honor's hand; 
Unblushing then, we can afford 
To say, "the courts are noble, grand:" 

But when the crime-destroying blade 
To dull, both bench and bar combine, 

'Tis time examples should be made — 
'Tis time some judges should resign. 

Police off wink at crime for fees, 
"Pull" innocence for gain or spite, 



[169] 

And blackmail Indiscretion's ease, 
Thus bleeding victims day and night. 

They strut and brag, on Justice frown, 

Smoke long, drink wine, fat turkeys carve— 

While Murder riots o'er the town, 

And workless poor- folks sin or starve. 

"Cop" gets a thief with quite a sum; 

They whisper low, while on the way, 
The thief escapes, the "Cop" keeps mum, 

And buys a house and lot next day. 

He fuels flames of vice, and sells, 
To gambling dens and opium stys 

The law's protection, and repels 
Indignant truth, and law defies. 

The starving poor, for stealing bread, 

And boys are "pulled," and treated mean, 

While men of "cloth," and "toughs" well fed, 
In glaring wrongs are passed unseen, 

By "Cops" who measure crime by dress, 

Or by the fee corruptly given; 
Who vile men screen, and weak oppress, 

Who should be placed and kept in prison. 



[170] 

Of such there are, of course, but few, 
Except when councilmen conspire, 

For many wards have noble, true, 

Brave Cops, who fear not flood or fire. 

They murderers to Justice drag, 

And risk their lives in duties' storms; 

With thieves ne'er known to share the swag, 
They ne'er disgrace their uniforms. 

And richly they deserve good pay, 
And thanks of people and the press; 

For nobler band ne'er formed array 

Fast growing crime to helping suppress. 




[i7i] 




SUCH IS LIFE. 

n^HE village loafing Sage, prophetic, 

With bye-gones haunted, bowed his head, 
Then cracked the Blues with smile magnetic, 
And to the village loafers said: — 

"The 'ups snd downs of life,' we find 
From Fortune's fickle, crazy wheel, 

Are not the same with all mankind; 
Some empires give, some crave a meal. 

"Some men act judge, and deal for fame, 

While jurors, blind, break threads of life. 

Some rend the heart, and some the name, 
Crazed by are some, some craze the wife. 

"The sturdy, storm- proof oak will lift 

The slender, grov'ling ivy vine 
From her low bed of dirt or drift, 

That she may bask in bright sunshine; 



[172] 

"Confiding in her smiles he drives 
Off fears and takes her to his breast, 

Who smiles on, saps his life and thrives 
The more when Death becomes her guest. 

"A hog that's poor, and sick, and down, r 
By comrade hogs to death is torn. 

Females astray get but the frown 
Of piety that's falsely worn. 

"A friendless, starving, human wreck, 
At 'Christians' door imploring aid, 

Hears, 'Helping him will not bedeck 
My name with fame, nor help my trade;' 

"Then meets some coarse humanity, 

A rum-faced, scarred-up Western rough, 

Unpetrified by Vanity, 

Whose heart yields charity enough. 

"Hypocrisy, with pious face, j 

Will put on wolves the lamb's white robe, 
And cast on lambs the wolf's disgrace, 

Complaining as if cursed like Job. 

"A trusted, well-fed, meek-eyed preacher 
Makes love to 'Sinners' pious wife — 

Or else the Deacon's — then will teach her 
The strange sad truth that, 'Such is I^ife. ' 



[i73] 

''On voyages of life we save, 

To treat as best we can afford, 
A drowning pirate — thankless knave — 

Who binds and throws us overboard. 

"Our old-time friendships are erased 
When fickle fortune clouds our way: 

Some trusted hearts, the more embraced, 
More deadly grow from day to day. 

"The rich grow fat on poor men's muscle, 
And wages cut with hunger's cry: 

The poor with rugged life must tussle — 
Must work and live hard, steal or die. ' 

"Yes, poverty's oppressed by wealth, 
And wealth's procured by cheek and fraud, 

Or sleepless toil, which feeds on health, 
While saint and sinner wealth applaud. 

"Great nations grab, and growl, and fight, 
No less than dogs, and hogs, and men. 

If man kills man, he hangs— 'tis right- 
But nations slaughter, fame to win. 

"As vermin, buzzards, owls and snakes 
Were made a part of God's creation, 



[174] 

So frauds, assassins, jades and rakes 
Form part of every state and nation. 

"Of selfishness the wide world o'er, 

Bad faith of friends, heart-aches and strife, 

Enough we find to keep us sore, 
And much embitter sweets of life. 

"Still, life has two sides, all confess, 
And one shows honor true and bright; 

For many come with love to bless, 
And shine on sorrow's gloomy night. 

"Our lot — our aches, and strifes, and friends, 
If bad, we sometimes make them so; 

For wings to fortune Folly lends, 
To fly-away and leave but woe. 

"The world is mostly good; some sins, 
(As courts and prisons gather crime,) 
Are purifying sores to cleanse 
Society; they'll last through time. 

"Man's nature must be forged anew, 

Ere Purity can e'er regain him. 
There's hope for Heaven, and H — l's in view, 

Butth' Devil's loose, and who's to chain 
him?" 



Li75] 



'TIS INDISCRETION. 

''TVES Indiscretion, more than Will, 

That bites and swallows baits of Sins; 
Then Shame dissuades Return, until 
The current draws, and wreck begins. 

When streams run high, the wise can tell 
That floods have at the source been rife; 

That whene'er crime runs high, the swell 
Must have begun at higher life. 

Then, saviours, mount the hills above; 

To Indiscretion show the way, 
And teach and heal with help and love: — 
'Tis thus you e'er should "Watch and pray. ,r 




[i 7 6] 

DESPAIR TO DEATH. 

J^ CHERISHED heart hath proved untrue; 

So Death speed on thy surest dart. 
The world I'd gladly bid adieu, 
To ease my aching head and heart. 

For night brings only sorrow's dream; 

To hope the sunshine brings decay; 
The gloomy year an age doth seem, 

Which glided once as drags a day. 

Then Death come on! Where is thy sting? 

Come, soothe me with thy endless sleep. 
Thou canst to me long comfort bring, 

So o'er my quiv'ring heart-strings sweep. 

death's reply. 

No! from thy place thou shalt not move; 

Awile on earth my service do. 
But one soul thou, if here, would prove, 

While there thou startest many through. 

For ages toll-less gates I kept, 

Through which the Devil's acgelfe poured. 
As down broad ways dead mankind swept, 

I sought to know where went this horde. 



[i77] 

I found for countless millions room, 
And craved a kingdom to control; 

I showed old Nick his bitter doom 
Should I close gates on every soul. 

He saw the point and did agree 

To compromise and share his reign. 

As steerer then on earth you see, 

You best can serve — your prayer's in vain, 

The discontents that serve us well, 
And shorten lives, by hand or jaw; 

Book agents, beggars — there may dwell, 
As free as meddling mothers' nlaw. 

Nay, plead not so, tis not the time; 

For, such as you we're seeking not: 
Too useful there; go, do some crime, 

Or be a sleepless brawling sot. 

I seek the toddling, lisping child, 
The love and sunshine of the home, 

Or loving mother undefined, 

While sin infectious there may roam. 

For sin, despair and selfishness, 

Old scolds, rheumatics, crooks and cranks, 
With jurisdiction there we bless, 

Well knowin ; they'll recruit our ranks. 



So go thy way; strew scabs and gall; 

I'll never heed thy useless prayer; 
I^end shadow, gloom and death to all — 

We know thou best can serve us there. 

In time to H , from earth you'll go, 

You fool, and with my partner room, 

And broil and sizzle, screaming "Oh!" 

Ha! ha! till hissing crack of doom. 
Juarez, Mex. 



AN IDEAL DEATH. 

THIRST, rest me well of toil, choke off the 

dogs of strife; 
Dry mem'rys wakeful tears, dissolve the clouds 
of life; 
Take folly's sting from joy, 
From bliss take sins alloy; 
Of good deeds cause review, let Hope show 

sparkling treasure; 
Soft music start, bring flowers, and strike me 
dead with pleasure. 



[i79] 
SIGN THE DOOR. 

A GAINST domestic peace and joy, 

Dive keepers urge their reeling band: 
Drug pride, and honor, and destroy 
Good germs of virtue from the land; 

Life's stream pollute, and polish wrong; 

Spill men, when fleeced, into the gutter; 
Rob homes of bread with drink and song, 

And make their flag infectious flutter. 

Now if in public they must crawl, 

They ought to mark themselves quite well, 
By hissing, squirming, spitting gall, 

And on their doors write, "Door to Hell." 



OUT. 

pOIyLECTORS, when the months begin, 

Pursue their calling dreary, 
O'er- trotting towns, for cashless frowns, 
Till crazy-blue and weary. 

They tramp around until they've found 
The man for whom they search, 






[i8o] 

Unless he's slipped, or else has "skipped," 
And left them in the lurch. 

They wateh with care, and rant and swear 
While stepping in 'mid blushes, 

To plainly see their debtor free, 
As through back door he rushes. 

Red anger's glow they justly show 

When told, with saucy shout, 
That he who sought, and found and bought 

The goods on time is — "Out." 




A MOTHER'S WAIL. 

QKCBITFUL stream, why smile at me 

And ripple on with joy all day, 
Reflecting sunny skies and love 

While death and treachery mark thy way? 

As peaceful as a lamb you seem, 

Inviting confidence and sport; 
No one to see you now could fear 

You'd seek to take the lives you court. 



[18. ] 

With joy, dreamlike, I've often watched 
Your cheerful, charming, ceaseless flow, 

Eve you proved false and foully dealt 
My heart the cruel crushing blow: 

Kre you in sudden anger rose, 

And reaching out like madman, knave, 
With Death conspired and draggd my child 
Into a cruel watery grave. 

Why didst thou so enchant my son 

With whispering love, and dreamful pleasure 

Of fishing, swimming, bird songs, flowers, 
If not to catch and drown my treasure? 

And yet, O Lord! but dust we are; 

If 'twas thy will I'll not decry: — 
Accept the dead, the living guide, 

And teach us how to live and die. 




[I82] 

NAPOLEON TO HIS SOUL AT DEATH. 

T^EPART! Thou chafing spirit, fly 
To blasting woe, or bliss on high! 
Thou well hast served this flesh, and long, 
In thoughtful camp, and warring throng; 
Hath stirred up earth, o'erflowed the grave, 
With wreaths immortal crowned the brave: 
With cyclone power, thou didst sweep 
Proud nations o'er the earth like sheep, 
All panting, ranting, scheming fast — 
But go! thy day on earth is past! 

Ejected tenant, do not wince, 

But leave this clay, and get thee hence! 

Stay not, to add to fame and crime, 

Thy brand hath sear-marked earth and time. 

Thou harvester, with Death make peace; 

From him secure an endless lease 

Of placid calm; ambition's fire 

Let him extinguish; lest desire 

Urge thee to marshal warring hosts, 

Of fellow vet'rans — loyal ghosts — 

Whose ranks the grave will daily swell, 

And have thee reign in Heaven or Hell. 

Lexington, Va. 



[i8 3 ] 
LIFE. 

A PITY it is, that "'tis human to err;" 

That ' 'life is but a strife, a bubble, a dream, " 
Which errors can end with a sigh and a tear, 
Turning age to sour milk without storing 
life's cream. 



^Sj€ 




THE TELESCOPE, 

Draws worlds to earth and binds, 
While man peeps through the blinds. 



[i8 4 ] 







V 



STOLEN PLEASURES. 

A LONGthe winding paths of life, 

In every age and clime, 
Are prints of stolen joys and strife, 
Left in the sands of time. 

Poor Cupid keeps no rule or scales 

To measure deeds or words, 
And treads no beaten roads or trails, 
But pathless goes as birds. 

He off through "bars and locks" makes way, 

Or scales the walls above, 
And seeks, 'neath thread-hung swords each day, 

Sweets stolen — spice of love. 



[i85] 

Forbidden Love locks Danger's doors; 

But soon wears bolder face, 
Mounts wings of bliss and blindly soars 

To light, and sore disgrace. 

Receeding charms excite pursuit: 

Forbidden Love's retreats, 
Full blown with joys, bear woe for fruit; 

On thorns hang stolen sweets. 

Yet danger-stolen joys, that feast 

On love, congenial, bold, 
Are Mem'ry's pets, and last released 

From out her motley fold. 

For sinless bliss God's word provides. 

Bliss coined with sin's alloy 
With trembling hand and heart abides, 
Near ready whips for joy. 

Such bliss, like morphia, sweetly drifts 

Unanchored souls a spell 
On fancy's seas, then storm-uplifts 

And hurls them down to Hell. 



[i 86] 

MEMORY'S INVASION. 

/"^H, where are gone the prancing steeds 

That, in the happy long ago, 
Down South drew chivalry and grace, 

While Iyove sat chatting sweet and low? 
Alas! "those good old times" are fled; 

The wheel is broke,' the steeds are dead. 

And where the loud-mouthed fox-hounds, now, 
Whose music charmed as sped the race, 

While birds and bees and butterflies, 

Enthused, quit flow'rs to join the chase? 

Alas! My sight with mem'ry blurs — 

That farm grows weeds, and "coons" and 
curs. 

And where's the old-time revelry? 
. The rev'lers? Some wear widows' weeds; 
And some in war were slain: while some, 

Heart-broken now, are shivered reeds. 
In banquet hall, where beauty flirted, 
The music's hushed — all's dark, deserted. 

And how's the old school playing ground? 

No life is there — but ghosts of yore? 
No foot-prints even there of her 



[i 8 7 ] 

Whose cheeks I kissed behind the door, 
When I my heart and hand did plight? 
She's gone — white- winged for Heavenly flight I 

And how's the dear old home-roof now? 

Gone up in smoke? 'Tis well, if doomed. 
Where flowers were, are weeds; loved ones, 

To win whose smiles the flowers bloomed, 
Alas! did like the flowers fade! — 
But, Mem'ry, off! Why peace invade? 

At times the Past invades my thoughts, 

With School-time scenes of June vacation, 

Or starry nights on rambles late 

With girls untrained in base flirtation. 

Thus Mem'rys billows ebb and flow, 

O'er joys and wrecks of long ago. 






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